


estoy contigo

by cloudsinmycoffee9



Category: La casa de papel | Money Heist (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Established Relationship, F/M, Family, Fluff, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Love, Romance, Smut, TW: Domestic Abuse, raquel deserves so much, sergio has so much to learn, spoilers for seasons 1-4, totally self-indulgent
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-17
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-02-23 02:02:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 67,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23704003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cloudsinmycoffee9/pseuds/cloudsinmycoffee9
Summary: The second heist has finished, and Raquel and Sergio start over again, facing the expected and unexpected challenges along the way. They've moved their family to a new location, there are certain conversations about the past that have to happen, a grandmother and daughter to take care of, and a whole new life to build together.Ratings will change.
Relationships: Raquel Murillo/Professor | Sergio Marquina
Comments: 219
Kudos: 406





	1. astral weeks

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for the kudos and comments . . . in these trying times, they are truly a writer's validation! :)

They’d given up the house in Palawan, of course, since Raquel had followed the details of Plan Paris and given as much truthful information as possible to the judge in order to gain their trust. 

A cove on a small semi-private island off the coast of Nicaragua was their home now. The sun shone as brightly, the air was as humid, the fresh fruit as delicious and the tropical storms gathered just as often in the Corn Islands as it had in Palawan.

It hadn’t been easy to relocate and then settle as quickly as they did after the second heist wrapped up - but luckily the caretakers Sergio had contracted years in advance had been able to safely deliver Raquel’s mother, daughter, many of their sentimental possessions and even their cat from their time in the Philippines via cargo plane to meet Sergio and Raquel in a port town in Morocco, where they had then boarded a ship headed for the Caribbean. 

The reunion between mothers and daughters had been sweet - there had been so many moments when Raquel had been sure she would never see them again. Paulina had slept with her mother for the entire journey by boat, sometimes with Sergio sharing the bunk with them, but mostly he sat in a chair beside them, watching them sleep, praying to any gods listening to help him be worthy of their love. Sergio knew that Paula could never safely see Alberto again, for many reasons, and he felt deeply the weight of that responsibility to be a father figure to her. He felt the weight of the decision that Raquel had made in his favor. And while every inch of him ached to be as close to Raquel as possible at all times, he could not begrudge her this time to dedicate to reestablishing her relationship with Paula, after all the young girl had been through, with no say on her own behalf. 

Raquel ached to be near him in the same way, so even though she spent every possible moment with Paula and let her share the bed, she could often communicate clandestine plans to meet Sergio in inventive places around the ship to whisper tenderly to each other, hold each other close, make love when possible.

“To what do I owe the pleasure of this pleasant interlude, Inspectora?” he’d murmured into her ear between hot kisses one afternoon, after closing the door to the storage room where she had whispered to him to meet her.

“I heard what you called me this morning to the captain,” she had teased, one hand behind his neck to draw him closer to her lips while reaching her other hand for the belt that held up his pants. 

“Ah . . . what’s that?” Sergio asked, his mind trying desperately to reel back through all the conversations he had had that day, but caught off guard by her haste. He tried to control his breathing while reaching for the hem of her sweater and pulling it over her head. She growled as her hand was pulled away from its target for the moment, but then reached back down to quickly unbutton her pants to pull them down and then reached for his, resuming her ministrations, feeling him grow harder in her hand.

She grinned into their kiss. “‘Mi mujer’ you said. You’re so surprisingly adorable sometimes.” She kissed him again, moving her mouth from his lips to his jawline, his neck, up to the sensitive spot behind his ears. “You’ve never said that to me . . .”

The weight of her words hit him and he stilled under her touch. “Um.” His stillness against the pressure of her kisses pushed him up against the door. She pulled back to look at him. 

“What?” she asked. “Do you not remember saying it? Because I happen to have excellent hearing and I know I heard it at least twice.”

“Well.” His eyes darted around the room for a moment. “Well, yes, I did say that in reference to you.”

Raquel pulled back to look at him, confusion and amusement warring over the features of her face even as her eyelids were heavy lidded with desire. “Sergio, do you think I have a problem with you calling me this?”

“Well - “

“Or is it - ” she shifted her mouth away from his body. “Do you have a problem with you calling me this?” she asked, more seriously now, pulling back and placing her hands firmly at her side, angling her head up to look at him. “Did you not - was it a mistake?” she asked, her voice cracking a bit.

“No, no no no, it's not that, it's not,” he said quickly, realizing he’d given a strange reaction, shaking his head and reaching to smooth her hair behind her ears to look her in the eyes and hold her in place. He could see the shadow of a tear forming in her eye and he placed a hand on her waist. “Raquel, I only am embarrassed because . . . well, of course I think of you so closely, as my partner, my other half, my - “

“Wife?” she supplied in a whisper that was a question and an accusation in one..

“Yes, as close as that. But you know that I have never had a proper relationship. I have never said to anyone, have never been in, well. As you know. I have never . . . proposed to you . . . and . . . I haven’t asked your permission to call you such, and so I am sorry that I said - that I presumed - I hope that you aren’t upset, because I know that you are fully capable of being on your own, but - “

Raquel moved her fingers over his lips to stop him from speaking further, trying to take away some of his stuttering embarrassment. She shook her head at him, her expression full of feeling.

“Sergio - I’ve left everything to be with you. I’d leave it again. Call me what you want. I liked being called _mi mujer_. Because I do feel that - in all the ways that are important. Okay?”

His eyes still darted around the small room. “So, it’s okay? Because I can think of other words, but they don’t seem enough, or there are other words, but not that I would share with - with the world, just - just when talking to you,” he stammered. 

Raquel smiled softly at him; this complex man, who has spent so much of his life in a hospital bed, too smart for his own good, his heart and mind constantly aching for something better for the good of the world, his whole family dead long before their time. “You can call me what you want. If our lives weren’t what they are, I’ve love to hear you sing it from the rooftops that you thought of me this way. Or maybe just play me something on the piano.” They grinned at each other, looking deep into each other’s eyes for long minutes before leaning in to express what they were feeling with deep kisses.

“But what shall I call you?” she asked, pulling back as they both gasped for air. “What do you prefer?” her hands slid back around him, grasping at the hem of his shirt and pulling it over his head, then reaching for her bra. Her lips found the skin behind his ears, pressed into his beard, ran down his neck. She felt his growing hardness against her thigh and leaned her body into it, grinding slowly as her mouth and hands continued to roam over the exposed parts of his skin she could reach. “Professor - Sergio - mi amor - what should I call you?” she asked again, undulating her hips against his.

“Yours,” he whispered. “I am yours.”

His arms went around her body and he spun them quickly so her back was to the door before he hitched his arms under her legs for leverage. Hands scrabbled to remove and adjust clothing.

There were no coherent words for a long time after that.


	2. warm love

Raquel’s police background had made her question Sergio’s choice to start their new lives in Central America, but she had faith in his decisions and agreed to follow him wherever he decided they should go. He had learned a lot after the disaster of Rio and Tokyo’s discoveries and spent a long time planning their relocation even as he was planning the heist during their time in the monastery. She would forever wonder at his ability to have a contingency plan for everything - a thread to pull in any direction - a mind big enough to consider all possibilities and all the odds in their favor and then make the right decision.

It was a relief to realize that the general unrest and violence of the country didn’t reach the shores of the Corn Islands. The Nica government - both local and national branches - was too busy with their own problems to ask any questions about the somewhat mysterious purchase of a small plot of land, accessible only by water and through a tricky reef bay at that, all in cash. 

The locals who were hired to follow the very specific and detailed blueprints were paid in cash, too, and so well that they asked no questions. The house was beautiful - most of the rooms opened to face the private beach, they used materials that were locally sourced, relying on the expertise of the native people to construct everything from the foundation up. 

Sergio grew close to a father and son construction team and trusted them with some of his more advanced requests, like the hidden doors, the security cameras, alarm systems, and panic room built off the master bedroom that connected via a sliding door to Paula’s suite. The workers were treated kindly; thatched houses and big family meals were provided and several locals were hired to stay on as caretakers for Raquel’s mother and the grounds. 

In many ways, it was easier living in Central America - there was no longer a language barrier and Paula attended school with the local children and made fast friends. She giggled with delight every morning as she was picked up in the boat that was the island’s version of a school bus. 

And after a few weeks, they had fallen into a new kind of rhythm that made up their life. Together, they picked out hammocks to face the sunrise, bought mismatching plates at the market, and painted the walls of Paula’s room a buttercup yellow. 

They planted a small garden where Marivi tended to wander to on her worse days, so they made a bench under a shady tree and Sergio installed a discreet camera and alarm system there to take some of the stress away from Raquel. She carried a small gadget on her hip that alerted whenever someone crossed the invisible fences in and out of the garden, so she could know where her mother was at all times. Of course, the nurse they hired to keep an extra eye on her helped tremendously, as well.

They bought a local wooden boat similar to what they’d used in the Philippines and christened her “Nairobi.” Much like her namesake, she was precise up to a point, and often gave Sergio a hard time navigating when bad weather struck. 

As a family, they often went out to some of the lighthouse islands to befriend the small families that tended to the ancient signals of the seas. Paula would scamper with the children in the waves, collecting crabs and pretty shells, while Sergio and Raquel swapped sips of homemade rum and bits of local news and ship sightings with the lighthouse masters. They always brought gifts and came home with fresh fish and new friendships. 

Eventually, they both stopped looking over their shoulders at all moments, and startling at every strange noise. The low grade panic that had lived in the pit of their stomachs for years seemed to subside a bit. And they dared themselves to enjoy life a little more - like they had for those few precious years in Palawan. Sergio noticed Raquel trusting Paula to the care of others and out of her sight just a bit more. She increasingly went barefoot instead of always wearing sturdy shoes. She stopped by the security room less, laughed a bit more freely. Raquel noticed less construction around the grounds, less money changing hands, Sergio spending fewer late nights at his control panel in the panic room.

However, their personal demons were still something they were learning to deal with.

Raquel had shared much of her heart and a bit about her past with her ex-husband with the person she’d known as Salva, and had opened up more and more in the years since then now that she and Sergio were a couple. But every once in a while, a shout or Sergio raising his hand unexpectedly would cause her to flinch. But his shouts were _never_ in anger - they were always in excitement over something, usually in play with Paula. If he _ever_ raised his hands, it was to pull at his own hair in frustration or push his glasses up (even if they weren’t falling, a tic she found more endearing by the day), to slap at a mosquito, or push a low-lying branch out of the way for her as they walked through a jungle path.

She often didn’t even realize she had reacted until Sergio would call to her softly, “Raquel, I was just . . . “ and he would explain whatever movement it had been, and then hold out a hand to her and wait patiently until she had shaken the moment away. They both knew it would take time to reprogram her instincts, time for her past to catch up with her present where she was with a man who loved her beyond all reason and promised her over and over, with words and with actions, that he would never hurt her, and would always take care of her. 

Once, after a two-night visit to the mainland to buy some supplies, he came home with presents for all the ladies of the house. Marivi was captivated with the new ceramic plant pots he’d purchased for her, and had already taken Paula with her new kite and hair ribbons off to the beach to see how well they all fluttered about in the wind.

For Raquel, he had purchased a pair of dangly silver earrings and several sundresses. He had enjoyed picking out these things for her, knowing they had no market at all on their island, and that she would look beautiful in the loose-fitting fabrics. The two days he had spent away from her had been a trial, and wandering shops to buy things for her, Paula and Marivi, in between tying up some business ends, had given him a larger purpose.

She had opened the bag and then stared at them, unable to articulate her feelings.

“What is it?” he’d asked, his heart pounding. He'd screwed this all up - he'd never bought her a present before. _Fuck,_ he thought to himself. _What was I thinking?_ “You don’t like them? I know you haven’t had a chance to buy many new things since we arrived, and I saw them in the shop window and knew they would look beautiful on you. I’m sorry if I - ” 

“No,” she’d said quietly, cutting him off. “It’s just . . . “

“What? What is it?” He moved closer to sit next to her on the sofa as she kept staring at the package, fingering the hemlines of the gauzy sundresses he’d bought for her. They were colorful, one a halter top, the other two looked to be off the shoulder. She held one up, a burnt orange that complimented her skin, she could see a navy blue floral pattern and a deep yellow color. This one would fall above her knees once she put it on, she knew. She turned to Sergio.

“I can’t remember the last time Alberto bought me clothes that weren’t, well, a scarf or a turtleneck or something meant for me to . . . to hide my body in. I don’t know if he ever bought me something I actually would have purchased for myself.” She took a deep breath before she continued. “And he would have never bought me these earrings . . . he would have thought they were too flashy, and even if I had wanted them, he would have said that I was trying to draw attention to myself.” She looked up and away through the window at the horizon, deep in thought. Sergio gave her a moment to collect whatever thoughts she had before she turned back to speak to him.

“I love that you brought me these presents . . . that you thought of me, my mother, my daughter while you were away and found special things to bring home to us.” She reached out a hand to touch his cheek, her fingers reaching back to caress his jaw, the shell of his ear, before sliding down to his heart. “But I want to tell you - I want you to know - that the greatest gift you have given me is a chance to find myself again. To feel comfortable in my own skin, sure of myself, to be loved for who I am and to have your respect . . . all these things just make me cherish you more.”

Sergio leaned into her touch before bringing his arms around her. Sometimes, when she was fighting away the demons of her past with Alberto, he wasn’t sure if she wanted to be held or not, even if that was the one thing in the world _he_ wanted to do whenever she revealed a bit of the trauma she had lived through. But this time, she leaned into his warmth eagerly, nestling against his chest, her hand still tucked against his beating heart. He drew her as close as he could, kissing her forehead, stroking her hair and back and whispering endearments and words of love as he felt the wet of her silent tears fall on his shirt. She was so strong, so brave, truly one of the most incredible people he had ever known, and he knew what it cost her to be so vulnerable with him, with anyone. But she was brave enough to do it, and he vowed to be worthy of her trust in him.

It had never been easy for Sergio to truly express his feelings. As a child, his mother had died so young, his father had been present but also doing what he could outside the hospital to make the money he needed to pay bills, and his brother had been, well, Andres. So he hadn't exactly grown up with examples of normal relationships and expressions of feelings of any kind.

His adult relationships had been few and far between. He had been honest when he had told Raquel, under the absolute worst circumstances, that he was old and yet she was the first love of his life. He truly didn’t know how to articulate all the things she made him feel, but when she was brave enough to open up in front of him and try to explain her reactions to things that he knew they had to overcome together, it empowered him to do the same.

Somehow it was easier if he wasn’t looking directly at her, into her beautiful eyes, the way he knew her forehead would crease and her lips would tremble at his words. It was easier if she were already there in his arms, as she was, tucked tightly against him, both of them watching the sun set slowly outside the window, the faint sounds of laughter ringing from Paulina and Marivi on the beach not so far away. So he dug deep and he tried, because she deserved it. 

“Raquel, you would look stunning in a trash bag or a shower curtain or a potato sack," she scoffed at this but then nestled closer, "but you should wear what makes _you_ feel beautiful and comfortable, too. Mi amor, I have tried before, but I will never be able to truly express how incredible you are. I want you to know that for yourself without any fear or trepidation. I wake up surprised every day that you are real, that you are with someone like me. You deserve so much more than I could ever give you. But I promise, if you’ll let me, I’ll spend the rest of our lives trying to figure out how to make you feel all the love I have for you.” 

She laughed through her tears and reached up a hand to wipe at her face. “If I’ll _let_ you, my love? I want nothing more.” 

They gazed into each other’s eyes, turning towards each other on the sofa, her hands on each side of his face and his on her waist. They came to rest their foreheads against each other, unspoken promises passing between them.

“Mama!” Paula’s voice broke through the reverie. “What did Sergio bring _you_?” she asked, running up to bounce onto the sofa in between them.

Raquel gave a quick apologetic glance to Sergio before turning her attention to the squirming, sandy little girl next to her. “These beautiful dresses! And these earrings! What do you think?”

“You will be the prettiest mama in the world! But you weren’t there when he bought them, so you have to see if they fit! Try them on like you always make me. And twirl in them so we know for sure!” Paula clapped her hands and looked to Sergio for confirmation.

“She is right, mi amor. I think we need to see these modeled in person to be sure they are the right fit. Although, I have to warn you, I used my intimate knowledge of certain physical aspects in order to choose the correct size. I feel confident I chose well, and am excited to see how right I might be. I wonder what you will like the best, Raquel?” he added softly, as Raquel gathered up the dresses. 

She turned to him in surprise - he was flirting, but also letting her choose. Paula looked back and forth between them, having lost the plot with the advanced vocabulary. Raquel smiled softly at him, tears threatening again at the corners of her eyes. This was not a man who would demand that she hide herself away, who would control her with his jealousy or his fist. He would let her decide what she wanted, and love and support her no matter what.

“Abuela!” she heard Paula call out towards the beach as she turned and walked back towards their bedroom to try on a dress, just for fun. She turned around to see her mother walk up to the open sitting room, leaving sandy footprints in her wake, her nurse shaking her head as she walked behind her. Marivi collapsed onto the sofa and draped herself in mock exhaustion over Paula’s lap, delivering a dramatic monologue about something Raquel could not hear but seemed very entertaining. 

Raquel was never completely sure that she had made the right decision in taking her mother away from Spain and bringing her around the world, away from her other daughter and all she had grown up with, but moments like these helped her feel more at peace with it. She could see Sergio laughing at their antics and then leaning in to whisper something conspiratorially to them, which was only confirmed when they both squealed and headed towards the kitchen, and Raquel could make out the words “cookies” and “ice cream” among the rapid fire conversation they were having as she continued towards the bedroom. 

When she entered their master bedroom, she closed the doors behind her and gave herself a moment to breathe deeply and process the conversation she’d just had with Sergio. She hated that the years she’d spent with Alberto still ever had any effect over her at all, but she was so grateful that she could be honest with Sergio. It seemed that every time she allowed herself to verbalize just what she was thinking, they were actually able to grow closer because of it, even though she was always so scared those moments would break them apart. She had felt so damaged for so long, but Sergio, even with all his faults, even with the absolutely wild way that they’d met and come together in the first place, was somehow healing her.

In the end, she decided against the fashion show she knew Paula would have appreciated. She picked up the mustard yellow one that slipped over her body easily and hung off her shoulders on purpose, the hemline skating her knees. When was the last time she dressed with only the idea of looking hot for herself and someone she loved? So much of her recent life, she was dressed in functionality, but subdued her sexuality as a woman working in a man's world. Her years with Alberto had suffocated a lot of who she was as a woman, but being with Sergio and growing back to a version of her true self was slowly changing that.

She pushed the dangly earrings in and ran a hand through her hair in the mirror quickly, adjusted her bra a little bit, and flashed herself a cheeky smile. Her skin was glowing, her hair curling softly around her face, the cut of the dress was flattering. She looked great - she could feel it. She could appreciate it and honor it. And it struck her deep in her heart that Sergio had picked out this dress, thinking of how it would look on her, how it would make her feel, and not thinking about anything else but making her feel good.

Raquel walked out to the living room, hearing the clang of the spoon against the ice cream bowl and the idle comments between her daughter and her mother as they worked on their desserts. She admired the back of Sergio’s head for a moment - his dark, careless hair curling in the humidity against his neck, the breadth of his shoulders across the top of the sofa, his profile as he turned to look at Paula and laugh at something she said. She walked around the side of the sofa where he was seated and sank unceremoniously into his lap, with the air of one who knows she will be caught if she lets herself fall. Sure enough, his arms came up around her instantly to adjust her comfortably against his legs and chest. She kissed his jaw in appreciation and leaned back to look at him.

“Hi,” she said softly, trying to gauge his reaction. His eyes swept down and up again at her body nestled against his. 

“You’re a vision,” he whispered, his eyes flitting back between hers. She pressed a kiss against his lips before turning to Paula.

“I see someone has helped themselves to the dessert!” she intoned, smiling at the remnants of chocolate framing Paula’s lips. Paula giggled, open mouthed, and continued destroying her bowl of ice cream.

“Oh Raquel!” Marivi gasped, suddenly looking around in awareness. “Don’t you look amazing! Sergio - do you see my daughter? Isn’t she beautiful? She’s positively glowing.”

“She certainly is,” he replied, his hand finding its way across her bare shoulders and down her arms, gathering her hair to twist it in his fingers. He started pressing soft kisses behind her ear as she tried to maintain concentration on her mother and daughter slowly finishing their ice cream. He hit a very sensitive spot and then - 

“Bedtime now, Paula,” Raquel managed to say without much tension. “You’ve had your presents and dessert, and Sergio has had a long day, so let’s say goodnight and all go to bed, hm?”

Marivi licked her spoon with one final bout of enthusiasm, and then turned to her nurse. “Bedtime!” she announced, as if it were her idea, and she got up quickly. Paula watched her grandmother leave and giggled before turning to her mother. 

“Okay. Thank you for the presents and the dessert!”

“You’re welcome, my darling,” Sergio responded warmly.

Paula stood up and stretched up on her tiptoes, arms high in the air, like she had had the longest day in the world. “Boy, am I tired. Okay. Night night Mama,” she leaned in and kissed Raquel’s cheek. “Night night Papa,” she leaned over Raquel and kissed Sergio’s cheek, and without another word, she scampered off towards the main house to her room.

Both Raquel and Sergio sat still, stunned, as Paula exited.

“She’s never . . . has she ever called me . . . ?” he finally asked.

Raquel could only turn to him with tears in her eyes. “All the gifts I’ve been given today,” she finally said, cupping his cheek with her palm, canting her forehead towards his. His eyes closed and she kissed them softly before pulling back to press her lips against his. 

His hand reached for her thigh to pull her whole body more closely against his on the couch, and he shifted and leaned back into the cushions so they were laying against each other as closely as they could. She adjusted around him until she could look him in the eyes and every space between them was filled. She felt comfortable and wanted and needed and whole in a way she didn’t think she had ever felt before. She smiled up at him.

“Hi again,” he said.

“Hello, my love,” she replied with a grin, her voice low and raspy, and he squeezed her even closer against him. “What??” she asked, gasping in his embrace.

He paused. “I don’t think I will ever get used to that, to hearing you call me that,” he said quietly, burying his face into her neck and planting kisses against her collarbone.

“Well get used to it,” she giggled. “I’ve signed up for a long-term commitment here.”

He stilled his movements and pulled his head up to look at her. “Promise?”

“With all my heart,” she replied, reaching out a finger to sweep across his cheekbone, down his nose, to his lips. He kissed it and then yawned.

Raquel suppressed a smile. “Are you tired, mi amor?”

“No?” he tried to answer, but then just yawned again.

“You’ve had a long day. Let’s get you to bed, hm?”

“But we should - “

“No no no - we’ve a lifetime ahead of us, cariño. Wake me tomorrow fully rested and with a kiss. Tonight, let’s not fall asleep on the couch, let’s brush our teeth, let’s wake up in our own bed with a lock on the door, hm?”

He paused for a moment. “I will admit you make several good points.”

“I always do,” she punctuated her remark with a kiss to his nose before extricating herself from his embrace and standing up next to the couch.

“Come, my love,” she beckoned, and after a few seconds, he stood up next to her and they walked hand and hand back to the main part of the house to do the mundane but beautiful things together - wash their faces, brush their teeth, use the toilet, change into pajamas, and then finally fall into bed together. Each space was met by an elbow or knee or hip of the other, until from head to toe, they were touching as much as they could. And then with a kiss against her hair, they both took one big breath, and then settled to sleep.


	3. Moondance

As the weeks went by, life transitioned from internationally wanted criminals into something becoming more normal. They settled into routines, all the rooms of the house were alarmed and decorated, Paula had a group of friends to run around with, and perfect domestic bliss seemed to be on the horizon. Raquel could not thank her lucky stars enough that after all the stress of of the first heist, of spending a year in a weird limbo of despair, numbness, and agony without her job and without Sergio until she finally figured out his clue and found him in that island bar, after a few blissful years on Palawan, and then the year of the second heist and the tumult it brought upon their lives, that they finally might be approaching a kind of normal life.

 _Well_. Normal for _them_. Their normal would never be white picket fences, a dog, 2.5 children and a retirement plan. But she knew as long as she had her mother, daughter, and Sergio, her happiness would be unbreakable. She couldn't imagine a more difficult scenario than the many they had already gone through. And those tough times hadn’t broken them, but only served to make them stronger.

There were several things that still needed to be ironed out in their relationship, that was true. But after enduring all the heartache that she had, Raquel had learned the virtue of being strong as well as patient when it was worth it. And she knew Sergio was worth it. 

Just days after meeting each other, he had wanted to move to a deserted island together, and here they were.

Was it magic? Fortune finally smiling on her? Destiny?

When they had first been parted at the end of the first heist, he had called her the one flaw in his perfect plan.

Yet he had called it all worthless and begged her to let him turn himself in in her place when he had thought she was about to be executed.

She loved him and she knew that he loved her in the same way, as though they had spent their whole lives looking for the other. When they had met, it was as if meeting the most familiar stranger. His mind and his body and his soul she felt she knew better than her own, but what excited her the most was that despite all this time together, he still surprised her and challenged her again and again.

Sometimes, however, she thought it might be nice to not have to deal with any more surprises or challenges.

It was on another trip to the mainland that Sergio brought back several PCs and other kinds of electronic equipment. Raquel assumed it was for security and surveillance of the property, and was surprised when a few days later he opened up a classroom for the local children to attend for free. Paula wasn’t interested, but he started with half a dozen children, mostly of the workers on the property, and soon close to 15 were attending the drop-in classes in the wooden shack that had been hastily built for the purpose.

The outside appearance was misleading, however, because when one entered, if allowed, there were several sophisticated pieces of equipment, cameras, a sound-booth, robotics, and a group of children entranced with her partner speaking from the front of the “classroom.” 

After it started, Raquel let this go on for a few more days before she approached him one late afternoon as they were indulging in what was becoming a daily informal “happy hour” watching Paulita play, keeping an eye on Mariví, and sharing a quiet moment together watching the sunsets before family dinner. 

She asked him about it casually, asking how his "classes" were going, and he gave a generic explanation about providing extracurricular activities for the underprivileged youth on the islands; he was giving them a place to hang out with each other and form friendships and do something valuable with their free time.

This touched her, because she knew that his childhood and adolescence had been spent mostly in the hospital, and he probably would have given anything as a child to have friends to hang out with and play on computers, or whatever he was teaching them in there. 

A few weeks went by, and what had become “drop-in” sessions started to look more like regular classes, and whenever she dropped by, the “pupils” were listening in rapt attention while Sergio lectured from the front. With a light jacket on. And a tie. There seemed to be more and more children in there, with more and more equipment, but he constantly assured her that it was nothing for her to worry about.

But finally, after two months of this, she waited until their normal happy hour time to bring up the question again. And for the first time, he was “late” to their unofficial gathering. This didn’t leave her in the best of moods, so instead of letting him brush her off, she pressed him further and let him come up with more reasons, raising her eyebrows as he tried to convince her it was for the benefit of the community.

“They don’t have a youth center or anything.” “Their parents are working, they can’t look after them.” “They have so much potential.” “Their own government forgets them out here - what they are getting barely passes as quality education." "If I can teach them valuable digital skills, they could really help their families.” 

She held up her hands to pause him. “Okay! Okay. This all sounds great. It’s just . . . you’ve been spending so much time there with them. There seems to be a lot of computers and technology in there . . . and it does seem like it's become quite formal, and so I just want to make sure that there is nothing too fishy, right, Sergio?” 

He glanced to the side a few times, like he always did when he was nervous. “Well. I have asked them to call me ‘Professor,’” he confessed. 

She threw her head back and laughed. “As long as that is all.”

He shifted on his feet back and forth and couldn’t quite make eye contact, so she pressed him further. 

“Sergio. Tell me.” 

“Just a few lessons that will be helpful for them to build on . . . coding, translation exercises - they are so bright, Raquel, so I’ve added some things just to keep them sharp. Extra-curriculars, if you will. But many show up, so that feels quite successful.”

“I see. And what is involved in these extra-curriculars, _Professor_?” she looked at him meaningfully, and he knew he had to tell the truth under her gaze.

“Well, perhaps, occasionally, we go into deeper topics, such as socioeconomics and politics, social justice movements of the 21st century, some light, um, security challenges - “

“Hey - Do you mean ‘hacking?!’” she interrupted as his voice started to trail off. Her hands landed on her hips.

“ _Challenges_ ,” he tried to stand up straighter and back away from her slightly, but she pushed forward into his space.

“Sergio - we have come across the world again, put my daughter and mother’s lives at risk again, started a new chapter as a family again." Raquel took a step forward. "You must promise me, PROMISE me, that you will do nothing to draw attention to us. Promise me that we are and will be safe.” She put her hands on his cheeks, holding him until he met her gaze. “I can trust you, right?”

He looked slightly offended ad brushed her hands away. “Raquel, you do not need to remind me of the sacrifices we both have made to be where we are. I promise you that I would never do anything to intentionally put our family in danger.”

“My ears are caught by that word ‘intentionally,’” she responded, a challenge on her face. 

“You know that I calculate every risk of every moment of the day. All of the pros and cons of every step we have taken to come here, to build this life. I would not take risks just to - to _amuse_ myself,” he sputtered.

“Oh, I see. Are you lacking for amusement?” she smiled, lifting an eyebrow at him.

He stared back at her, feeling caught, unsure of what to say.

“Sergio,” she relented, “I trust you, of course, but all of this is happening and I don't know what to say about it . . . Look, I just want to _know_ , okay? Let’s not get too serious here, not if we don't need to be.” She reached out her hand and caught his, drawing him a bit closer so her other hand could cup his cheek. He relented a little under her touch, just as she knew he would. “Come, let’s sit down and talk about this, alright?”

She guided him over to the casita where there was a hanging bench where they could sit side by side and overlook the beach, waves softly drawing up to the sand and back again. Paula was playing with Marivi, building sand castles close to the water’s edge, just to laugh when a wave knocked them down. They sat against the pillows and Raquel looped her arm through Sergio’s and leaned her head against his shoulder, watching her daughter and mother play.

“Now that is a child who knows endless amusement,” she said, beginning to move their rocking bench by kicking her feet against the ground. They watched together as Paula ran screaming into the ocean to jump over the waves, and then bring a bucket full of wet sand back to the next castle building attempt. “I’m so grateful for those swimming lessons she took all those years ago. I never imagined how handy those would be now.”

“Hmph. Yes, I'm glad, too, because it just gets harder to learn when you get older.” 

Then she pulled back to look at him in surprise. “When did you learn to swim?”

He looked down at his hands until Raquel reached for the one closest and wove their fingers together. “I’ve told you some about being in the hospital so much as a child . . . that was one of the experiences I missed out on. So I had to learn as an adult. There are many things that I have had to learn later in life than most people.”

“Of course, I see,” she responded, thoughtfully. “And when did you learn?”

“In Palawan.”

“What?! Sergio - You moved to an island without knowing how to swim?” she looked up at him, astonished. “You asked me to move to an island, 'let's pick an island,' you said, and you didn’t know how to swim? Oh, my love, will you ever stop surprising me?” She leaned in to kiss his cheek.

“Well, not that I have much experience with this, but most beautiful women don’t fall for ‘run away with me to live in a warehouse with a wet floor and the occasional Serbian gang member dropping by.’ So I went for islands.”

Raquel giggled. “And I suppose they weren’t selling postcards with creepy warehouses or fake cider breweries at the shop that day, either?” 

“That was a factor, yes.” 

She looked up at him, the smile he was trying to hide, his eyes still trained on Paula, and a warm glow settled over her. She ran the tips of her fingers through his beard. “I still can’t believe you left clues for me. Still can’t believe it took me a year to figure it out . . . to come find you. I am so grateful that I did. I'm sorry it took so long.” 

He shifted a little in his seat. The year he’d spent waiting for her, not knowing, wondering, was something that was still hard for him to talk about, among many other things. “Well, that’s where the swimming lessons came in handy. They kept me busy; they gave me a purpose and something to focus on. An achievable object with high intrinsic value. I knew it would be irresponsible to bring up your daughter by the ocean if I did not myself know how to swim.”

“ _Our_ daughter, my love,” she corrected him, nuzzling her head back on his shoulder. He paused before he turned and pressed a cheek to her hair in apology. 

“Our daughter,” he agreed.

A moment passed between them before Raquel brought up the original reason they’d come to sit down and talk. “So, cariño, and I want you to tell me the truth . . . with the little school you seem to have started, training up una bandita in the islands. Sergio . . . are you . . . “ she seemed almost afraid to say the words out loud, as if it might then make them true. “Are you planning something?” she spoke in a rush. 

“No! Raquel, no.” 

“Do we have something to be worried about?” she pressed further.

“ _No_ , Raquel,” he turned to her, seeking eye contact. “I promise you, I am not planning anything at all. I want to help these children, this community, and I confess perhaps a part of me doesn’t want to lose my edge and my grasp on current technology and philosophies and political trends. But I promise you, I am not planning anything.”

She felt a wave of relief wash over her. She hadn’t truly thought he was up to something behind her back, but it felt good to clear the air on that possibility. “So you’re not planning anything, but there is all that equipment and it seems like you’re teaching them more than they probably need to just do well in school and maybe get into a great university . . . so what is the deal then? Perhaps a part of you misses it? Misses the rush? The adrenaline - the control - the danger?”

He scoffed. “Definitely not the danger. Nor the responsibility of thousands of moving pieces and dealing with many fallible human beings.”

“But you loved them, they’re your family,” Raquel interjected.

“You’re my family now.” He put his arm around her so her head was now leaning against his chest. “Of course, I miss the good times with the whole group, but I wouldn’t trade it for this time with my girls.”

Raquel smiled to herself and nestled in closer. She loved when he referred to her, Paula and Mariví as ‘his girls.’

But she pressed on, determined to get him to open up and explain this new obsession of his. “So . . . What is it? Perhaps . . . perhaps you are becoming a little bored?”

He sighed and brought his hand up to adjust his glasses that did not need adjusting. “I wouldn’t say bored. I could never call this life, so full and so beautiful with you . . . I am so grateful. I am not bored at all. I think . . . I think part of me still wants to be a part of something bigger. To do what I can to help improve people’s lives in some small way.” He paused, and then started speaking again, picking up speed as he gave into the passion behind his word. “And these classes, teaching these children, gives me that sense of purpose. There are so many people in this world that need help, but we’re right here on these islands. We have the money to afford to help them in tangible ways, the long-term and spiraling effects of which we can’t even begin to imagine, simply by providing opportunities and education to those who have been forgotten by the government officials who were elected and who are paid to take care of their needs. These so-called experts and official and government appointed people are put on a pedestal and act as though they are above the law. They have just one job to do - to take care of their fellow men and women, and yet they don’t. They simply don’t care.” He stopped to take a breath and looked out again at Paulita and Mariví, now frolicking up and down on the beach, chasing a group of seagulls. “I’m sorry. I'm sorry for going on so. It just makes me . . . I don’t even have the words.”

“Sergio,” Raquel said softly. “I love that about you. I think even when we hadn’t truly met, and you were the Profesor, and I was Inspectora, I could sense you weren’t in the heist to just steal a bunch of money, or to hurt anybody. You weren't just showing off because you’re so clever - “ he pressed a kiss to her forehead, because no matter how many times she said something like that to him, and no matter how twisted the circumstances, he could never get over the fact that someone as intelligent as she, who had almost single-handedly brought down his carefully laid plan that had been decades in the making, would find him clever, “ - I could sense, and then later you confirmed, that you have this deep sense of justice. You want what is right and fair for people in this world who deserve it. I don’t think there is a malicious or corrupt bone in your body.” She leaned up to press her nose against his cheek before she kissed it. And then kissed it again with a smile. “And if there were such a bone, I think I would have found it by now, because we have spent enough time exploring each other.” She giggled as it took him a moment to catch up with her joke, and then he wrapped his other arm around her to hold her in his embrace as her head came back down to rest against his chest.

“Yes, mi amor, I would agree that we have been very thorough in that regard,” he chuckled, kicking his feet at the ground so their bench began to rock again. They swayed back and forth for a few minutes, watching the sun dip lower.

Raquel finally lifted her head to press a kiss to his lips. “Well, thank you for talking to me about it. I'm sorry if I was out of line. I admit I didn’t think you would be up to anything, at least not without telling me right away - “

“I wouldn’t just _tell_ you - you would be a part of that decision with me, Raquel. We are partners in everything. Besides, that part of my life is over, Raquel. I promise you.” He shifted them both so that he was looking into her eyes, and she into his. He rested his hands on her neck and shoulders, brushing her hair back before continuing. “Raquel, I promise you with every bone in my body. I am grateful every day for this life with you and Paula and Mariví. I meant what I said - I don’t want this feeling to go away, _ever_ \- I feel more alive than I have ever felt in my life, when I am with you.”

She felt the tears forming in her eyes and she bit her lip to try and keep it from trembling as she brought her hands up to his neck and pressed their foreheads together. 

Sergio had given very few specific details about his romantic past, besides his treetop confession that she was the first love of his life, but she had gathered that he hadn’t been in many, if any, true relationships before. But ever since the end of the second heist and all they had been through as a couple to get through those trying times and finally settle here with her mother and daughter on a new island in the middle of nowhere, he had been trying to communicate his feelings to her.

She knew that the way they had argued and then were immediately separated during the middle of the second heist was something that continued to haunt him. Sometimes he still woke in the middle of the night in a cold sweat, reaching for her, reassuring himself she was alive and beside him, whispering “again, I heard them again,” in her ear as he drew her closer into his body, holding her tight against the memories of the gunshots that sometimes still rang in his nightmares.

Ever since they had reunited, he had made such a beautiful effort to try and tell her everything that he felt. Sometimes he still needed prompting, and they were learning together how to be good to each other and have the kind of relationship they both wanted and were comfortable with and honoured everything they had sacrificed to be together. And after everything, he continued to touch her deeply within her heart with his desire to articulate his affection. 

“Well then,” she said, pulling back to brush his hair out of his eyes and smile at him. “If you need a hand with any of those kids in there, let me know. Because I think it’s a good thing, what you are doing.”

“Thank you, my love," he leaned in and kissed her softly, "but actually, I think this is a better learning experience for me on my own.”

“Learning experience?” she repeated, confused.

“Well,” he looked down, seeming a bit shy. “There was a reason I wanted to do this that I couldn’t quite figure out for a while, but now I think that I know. Part of the reason I’m doing this is, well, it’s a sort of research project.”

Raquel raised an eyebrow. “Go on . . .”

“That sounds strange, but let me try and explain.”

They both sat back and adjusted to sit so they could see each other more clearly. Sergio turned to look back at Paula, still running around with her abuela, laughing at whatever they were up to on the beach, the sun setting in brilliant purples and lavendars and oranges behind them.

He looked back down and reached for Raquel’s hand to thread their fingers together before looking up at her.

“I owe it to Paula.”

“What?” She hadn’t expected that.

Sergio sighed self-consciously. “Remember a few weeks ago, how she started calling me her father? And we hadn’t - we didn’t - it was unexpected, right? But the most beautiful thing; I could have never imagined it possible for such a gift to be given to me, that she would think of me that way.” 

Raquel pulled their entwined hands together to kiss his fingers gently. “It was a gift to me, too.”

Sergio smiled back at her before continuing. “After that, I have been thinking and . . . my mother died when we were so young, I barely remember her except in stories. My father died when I was still a child. I didn’t have much of a childhood or an adolescence. I have no cousins, nieces, nephews. I know next to nothing about children or how to talk to them, what they want or need, how to help them. Let alone how to make them like me or love me.” He looked off again towards Paulita, her girlish giggle traveling over the winds that were slowly pulling the tide in and out.

Raquel desperately wanted to ask him more . . . for all they had shared together, it was still often difficult to get details on what Sergio’s life had been like as a child, as a teen. He had no photos, no childhood friends, no family to share stories or give insight. And for as much as he had grown in his ability to talk to her about their relationship, to share himself openly was still difficult. But she sat, patient and waiting, settling their hands together on his thighs, smiling at him in encouragement. 

Sergio took a deep breath in before continuing. “I thought this would be a way for me to know what’s coming as we try to raise Paula. To know what children are like, how they interact. I . . . I wanted to learn how I could make them like me, and how to . . . how to talk to them. How they talked to each other. What was interesting to them.”

“ . . . so you could understand how to interact better with Paula?” she asked softly.

“Yes,” he sighed, his voice so small in that moment that her hand raised of its own accord to cup his cheek in affection. “This is somewhat humiliating to admit, but yes. I just want to be what she wants and needs, Raquel. Because of me, because of what I've done, and because you have chosen to be with me, her life will never be anything close to normal.” He glanced back down at the beach and then to Raquel, pain in his eyes, and she could see moisture growing at the corners that he tried to blink away. “When I was growing up, and then when I was older, even right up until I met you and thought it might be possible, if I ever allowed myself to dream of getting married and having a family, I promised myself that my children would grow up living a normal life. It would be the _best_ life possible. And look what Paula has now. Nothing close to normal.”

“Hey," she shifted closer to him and waited until he looked in her eyes. "Mi amor, it might not be normal life for any of us, but do not doubt for even one second that we are happy here. That we don’t love you enough, that I wouldn’t do it all again if I knew at the end of it I - we - could all be here with you, together, okay?” her voice broke trying to explain to him. “That is one of the loveliest, albeit somewhat strange things I have heard someone do for love,” she laughed, and he laughed, too. “It breaks and heals my heart at the same time that you love Paula enough, love me enough, to want to research and collect data and make a plan for how to get her to love you back . . . “ she smiled and then placed both her hands on his bearded cheeks and guided him to look at her. “That is not exactly how I think it will work, Sergio. You see, what you have in there is a classroom of children who have grown up in wildly different circumstances than she has. And you are teaching them skills, valuable skills for their future, and they depend on it for their livelihood and success. They are probably starting to feel a bit of pressure from their families to succeed at what you are teaching them, as they recognize its value. They will not disagree with you, or act silly, or anything that children will do. If you ask those kids in the classroom shack to jump, they will say 'how high, Profesor?' But Paula? She _already_ loves you; she loves you freely, because she calls you ‘Papa’ and she sees that you make me happy and she knows you take care of us. And yes, I want us to figure out a way for the two of you to connect and bond more deeply, because this is the life we have chosen and the family we have chosen, and I want no other. But let’s do it all together, shall we? Hm?”

He looked into her eyes for a moment, a tear spilling over his cheek, and she leaned in to kiss it away. “We’re in this together, okay?”

“Okay,” he whispered back. He looked at her for a moment, kissed her, kissed her again, and then pulled her closer and shifted her around so she was in his lap. She fell into his spaces with a contented smile.

“Why do I always end up just here?” she asked, giggling and pressing her lips to his quickly.

“Because you fit perfectly exactly here,” he replied, his hands in her hair as his thumbs wiped away the last traces of any tears remaining on her cheeks before slotting his arms around her shoulders and down to her waist to draw her near. She tucked under his chin and shimmied closer to him, wrapping her arms around him. They stayed quiet for a few minutes, breathing together, synchronizing their heartbeats, each of them mulling over the revelations and conversations of the last few minutes, processing and contemplating how to move forward.

“Mama! Isn’t it dinner time yet?” Paula asked, running towards them, sand flying behind her tiny feet as she pitched forward onto the swinging bench, rocking it back and forth.

Raquel broke into a laugh, grabbing onto Sergio as if for dear life to keep from launching out of the bench. “Are you starving, mi vida? Yes, I think dinner is almost ready.” She glanced back towards the kitchen where Dulcita, a helper they had employed to cook for the family and the many grounds workers on occasion, caught her eye and nodded her agreement as she set up bowls on the kitchen island for a buffet style meal.

The swing started to slow down, and Paula looked at them both thoughtfully. “Are you okay, Papa?” she asked.

“Of course, shall we get some dinner?” Sergio replied quickly, trying to move the conversation away.

Paula avoided the tactic and leaned back and looked to Sergio again. “Papa, is everything okay?”

Sergio took a breath and then looked solemnly at Paula. “Your mother and I were just talking about . . . well, growing up and what it's like in different families.”

"Whose family?'

"Mine."

“Like what? I didn’t know you had another family at all! You never talk about them.”

“Well,” Sergio ducked his head, “that’s because there aren't many of my family left at all. Now there is just me, you see.”

“You _and_ us! We are a family!” Paula cried out, clapping her hands on her hips, mocking him as if she were offended. 

Sergio glanced at Raquel out of the corner of his eyes. She couldn’t quite turn to look at him, and he knew it was because she was as much affected by that statement as he was. He held his arm out to Paula and she eagerly sidled up next to him, turning to face upwards towards the stars appearing in the sky as the sun had set, snuggling in next to her mother who was tucked up in Sergio’s lap as well.

“You and your mama and abuela as well, of course, you are my family,” he whispered, close to her ear as he gathered her to him. He held her for a brief moment, and he and Raquel caught eyes as the rocking bench squeaked but held under the weight of the three of them on one side. They smiled at each other and then Raquel quietly climbed over to the other side of the swinging chair to balance things, placing both their feet in her lap and smiling at the picture of her daughter and her love entangled in each other, looking up to the heavens. 

“So?” Paula prompted. “The people in your family? Who are they? Because wouldn’t they be my family, too? Do you have pictures? Will they ever come visit?” she leaned back to look at Sergio upside down, as she was nestled into his lap.

“These are good questions and I should have told you earlier,” he said, taking a deep breath and swallowing before continuing. “But there isn’t much to talk about. There was my mother and father, but my mother passed away when I was quite young. I had an older brother named Andres, who was . . . very different. But I loved him. And I know he loved me, in his own way. I was very close to my father. You see, I was quite sick as a child, and so I spent most of my time in the hospital, reading and reading . . . “

“You still love to read!” Paula interrupted. 

“Well, yes, because that is how you learn things,” Sergio explained. “That is how you learn things that you cannot necessarily experience for yourself. Imagine - I was in bed for almost 15 years. From about . . . oh, three years old until 18 or so. I don’t really remember when it started or when it ended. But it was almost my whole - “

She gasped. “Oh, Papa!” Paula suddenly cried, and she turned and threw her arms around Sergio and gave a heavy sigh of sadness.

Sergio looked up to Raquel in alarm. “Paula? Mi cielito? What’s the matter?” he asked, looking down at their daughter, stroking her hair.

“Oh, that is just too sad! Papa, did you not make friends? Did you not play sports? Did you get to have Christmas and your birthday? You were in hospital for so long! That makes me so sad for you. What was wrong?” she looked up at him. “Did nobody help you?” she asked.

“Oh, Paula,” he struggled to come up with an explanation. “It wasn’t so terrible, I promise. I could read to understand the world around me. I learned Shakespeare and long division and futbol and volleyball and science and how to make friends and how to tie my shoes. All from books. Sometimes from my father. How to garden. How to play cards. From books, so many wonderful books.”

Sergio looked down at Paula, gazing up at him with all the trust in the world to give an explanation that made sense to her mind, to her sense of justice and right and wrong and black and white. 

He looked back up at Raquel and waited for a moment to see if she would interject. She looked back at him in earnest, her forehead furrowed in angst, her eyes wide open, but she didn’t say anything. From her look, he could almost hear the word she might say, telling him “trust yourself, tell the truth.”

“My papa tried to help me. My brother, Andres, your uncle, he tried to help me. My mama, your other abuela, she died before I could ever really get to know her. So I don’t have a lot or memories about the family I was supposed to grow up with." Paula turned her head and snuggled in closer to his chest, and he wound his arms around her, grateful for the warm weight of her upon his chest, the strength he felt emanating from Raquel at the end of the rocking seat. He could hear Mariví chatting with her nurse up in the kitchen, and the waves on the beach crashing leisurely upon the sand. The lights were low, the sun nearly settled beyond the horizon and the stars just beginning to peak out and the crickets and frogs and monkeys and other things of the night beginning to make their presence known and for once in his life, he felt safe and accepted and known.

“To be honest with you, Paula . . . I am still learning how to be a part of a family.” He reached to tuck some of her hair behind her ears and felt her tiny arms grasping at the fabric of his shirt in comfort. “And you might have a lot of questions, and I will try my best to answer. But the truth is, I think that you and your mama and abuela were the family I have been waiting for for so long. I have had to wait a long time, and I didn’t know it would be this good, but it was worth every minute waiting now that I can be with you. With my girls.” He pulled her closer, snuggling against her tiny frame. 

“Heeyyyyyy!!!!” she finally giggled. “Your beard is tickling me!! Let me gooo!!! It’s dinner time!! Papaaaaaa!!!!” she cried, flailing her arms and fighting against his ticklish affection as best as she could until he finally pretended to give up.

"I surrender," he sighed. She sprang out of his arms and then stood back to giggle at him, sprawled against the bench, chest heaving, as if he had lost to an admirable foe. 

“Come on, Mama,” she said, “it’s time for dinner! Race you to the table!” With that challenge, she took off like a shot.

Sergio lay still, watching her go, then he crossed his hands over his chest, looking up at the sky. He felt Raquel ease up next to him on the bench until her hips were next to his middle. She placed her hands over his.

“Sergio, mi amor,” she whispered, leaning so her nose and cheeks ran against his as she planted small kisses. “I know you might need a moment alone, so take a few minutes.” He nodded back against her, his hands reaching to grasp the fabric of her dress around her waist. “But then please come eat dinner with us, okay?” She pressed a kiss to his ear where she was whispering, then pulled back to look at him. She could see the emotions and memories traveling across his face and her heart broke for the pain he must be feeling reliving his past. She silently prayed for strength for both of them to press on to keep building this family together.

She leaned back down to kiss his face and whispered, "I love you."

Raquel stood back from the bench, walking off to join her mother and daughter in the kitchen and letting Sergio decide if he wanted to sit in his memories or join them at the table to have a family dinner.

A part of him wanted to stay out in the growing darkness by himself, look at the stars, and just think. Wait until they had all gone to bed, and then quietly slip into bed beside a sleeping Raquel and hope that they never had to talk about any of it again.

But the conversation wasn’t over - she had more questions to ask him and he had more stories to tell her - stories he had never shared with anyone, but that she deserved to know. She was so much better at this - able to open herself up and be vulnerable with him about the parts of her past that could easily stay hidden. But she had explained that even though it was difficult to talk about her previous marriage, her father's death, her sister's behaviour, her mother's illness, her troubled youth and everything along with it, it was important to help them understand each other better. Having grown up without a family or many friends around him, Sergio found it even more difficult to express emotions and process his past out loud. But for Raquel, for Paula, he knew he should try. He would try. "I want to know everything about you," she always told him, when she could sense his fear and trepidation. "That's what it is to be together, Sergio."

 _But will you still love me when you know everything?_ was his constant worry.

He sat up slowly in the bench, looking back to the kitchen where the ladies of the house were standing close to each other, laughing at something Raquel had said. The light was glowing around them and the scene beckoned him to come closer. His heart was heavy in a way, but he was glad he had been able to talk about the classes with Raquel, and that she seemed to understand and approve. He should have talked about it earlier with her, he knew. He was learning. Sergio also knew that tonight would be a good night. It would be a night where they laughed at the dinner table, tucked Paula into bed together, and in the darkness of the night, curled against each other in their bed, he could find the courage to answer the questions he knew Raquel would have. He would find courage in her strength, and together they would keep healing each other.


	4. Secret Garden

He let his voice drift away into a quiet murmur and then closed the book softly and leaned in to sweep back the hair from Paula’s face and press a kiss against her forehead. He tucked her hand that was hanging off the edge of the bed under a blanket, placed the bookmark back on chapter 12 of “Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone,” that they had started reading together a few weeks ago at her request. He found the book to be a bit problematic, but enjoyed it all the same for the many conversations they could have about the plot holes and the maltreatment of certain characters. 

As he backed away slowly from her small figure, snuggled in with a sloth stuffed animal she had named “Slowpoke,” he tilted his head to look down at the curling hairs at her temple, the sweet almost smile she slept with, his heart filling with emotion that this lovely child would choose to call him “Papa.” It made his heart pound in strange ways that she would ask for him to read her a story each night to tuck her in (“But he does all the good voices, Mama!” she had explained when Raquel had pouted about being looked over for the fourth night in a row. Sergio had the good sense to blush and seem embarrassed, even as he was brimming with joy).

Suddenly, the bottom of his bare foot came into contact with some very hard plastic. 

“Ay! Fuckfuckfuck,” he swore under his breath, trying not to wake the child he had just put to sleep, hopping on one foot to avoid the rest of the pile of legos scattered on the floor that Paula had been constructing into a carnival set. 

He limped out into the hallway, closing the door behind him before reaching down to rub at his sore foot as he leaned against the door to Paula’s room. There are many things he’d had to “learn on the job” about parenting, but no one could have ever warned him thoroughly enough about how much damage a lego piece could do. He shook off the pain to limp down the hall to their room where he hoped Raquel was still up and waiting for him.

“Well, it seems like I have been officially retired as favorite book reader,” Raquel teased as Sergio came into the bedroom.

He looked down, pleased, but a bit embarrassed. “Oh, I’m sure it was just a random request. By the way, it comes at a cost,” he grimaced down at his still sore foot.

“What cost? And random, you say? Ha. Random except for the fact that it has been nearly every night since you returned from your last trip a few weeks ago? I don’t think so, Sergio.” She held her arms out to him from where she sat up against the headboard on the bed and he came towards her to hold her hands. She squeezed his hands and tilted her face up until he leaned down to kiss her. “But it’s fine. I can never express to you how happy it makes me that Paula sees you as her Papa, that she has taken to you so strongly,” she said against his lips. She tugged at his hands again until he leaned back in to kiss her. “I am so happy,” she whispered.

He sat next to her on the bed and brought up one of her hands to his lips, kissing it. “Are you, Raquel? Are you happy here?”

She looked back at him in surprise. “Of course, mi amor. Do you think I would keep it a secret if I wasn’t happy?” she teased, reaching her fingers up to slide through the curling hairs of his beard.

He laughed softly at that. “No, I don’t.” He leaned in to kiss her again before pulling back and suddenly his tone became serious. “I guess I just wanted to make sure. And if you ever were unhappy, if Paula or your mother were ever unhappy, you would tell me, right?” he asked.

She looked at him for a moment. “You ask me that so often, as if I haven’t told you or shown you enough. Well. I will tell you that right now? At this moment? I am unhappy because it is late, I am in my pajamas but you still have clothes on, and I have been waiting in bed for you for what feels like forever. Can you please fix this, mi amor?” Her eyebrow arched at him. 

Sergio bit back a smile before clasping her hands again. “Of course. Five minutes. Save me a seat?” he asked, waiting for her nodding smile before getting up to get himself ready to join her in bed.

She scooted back towards him as he moved towards her in the center of their bed - the backs of her knees drawn to the fronts of his, her fingers soon tracing patterns around his arm around her waist, his warm breath moving the hair at the base of her neck as he snuggled in closer. She could feel the sparse hairs of his chest brushing up against her shoulder blades. Although she sometimes missed how cute he looked in his long-sleeved button down pajamas and matching pants, she was grateful that starting in Palawan, he’d acquiesced to the humid weather and now came to bed shirtless, but in loose cotton pajama pants that always slid enticingly against her bare legs. She bit back an urge to cry out “it tickles!” just like Paula always did when his beard passed along her neck and shoulder as he pressed kisses against her bare skin there, nudging the shoulder strap of her silky night dress out the way with his nose. Instead she smiled and pulled him as close to her as possible, letting him kiss her softly until he reached his content. 

“Are you tired?” he asked, hugging her closely against him, unsure if he was hoping for a yes or a no from her. 

She pulled one of his hands up to kiss it. “Hmmm. . . well, to be honest, I am, my whole body feels tired, but my mind is racing. I’m not sure I could go right to sleep just yet. But I have an idea.”

“Oh?” he asked, trying to disguise a voice full of anticipation.

She turned a bit to look him in the eyes. “Not letting you off that easily, Sergio,” she smiled, turning a bit more to reach a hand to his beard and pass her fingers through the unruly hair that grew against his cheeks. “I was thinking, hoping, that maybe you could be my bedtime story-teller tonight, too.”

He paused for a moment, lost in her gaze, until his mind caught up with her request. “Ah. You’re worried you will not understand the plot of the story when Paula asks for you to read to her tomorrow night, so you want to read some Harry Potter. I see. So competitive,” he teased. “Well, alright, it might be fun to figure out what house we all think we each belong in . . . “

Raquel smiled indulgently at him. “I am clearly a Ravenclaw and you are a Gryffindor. But - “

He pulled back in mild shock. “Raquel, I’m not entirely sure how you’ve decided on this. There are a few factors here, just based on what I’ve read. We have to discuss - “

“Hey!” she interjected, but still with a smile on her face. She turned around fully and placed her palm over his mouth. “Do you really think I want to spend this evening discussing our so-called House placements in a work of fiction written for children? Is that what is going to help us grow closer together?” She slid her hand down from his lips and settled it around his middle, drawing a leg up to hook over his to bring him closer, maintaining her eye contact.

“....No?” he guessed, as his arms slid more firmly around her. He leaned in for a kiss, of which she granted him a few moments before she pulled away, settling her head against his chest. He took a deep breath, knowing that if Raquel wasn’t tired, but wasn’t going to deepen their kiss to initiate something more, it could only mean - 

“Sergio, I know it’s hard for you to talk about things but . . . I meant it. You started just a bit tonight, to open up, and I know that’s the most you’ve ever said to Paula about your family. But eventually, she will want to know so much more about you. You are her Papa now. She will want to hear your stories.” She leaned in and kissed his cheek softly, slipping a hand into his hair before settling it against the side of his face, delicately outlining the shell of his ear. She watched her fingers travel over his ear and neck, his collarbone, back up to his cheek again. How much her heart hurt for him sometimes made it difficult to look him in the eyes if she didn’t want to let herself cry - this lost little boy she sometimes saw still lingering inside him, wondering how to be a part of the complicated family structure he was now in, finding his confidence and his place in the world and in his day to day relationships within the strong and established rhythm between Raquel, her mother and daughter. Raquel had given up everything normal about their lives in order to follow her love for him, and the reminders of that sacrifice often surfaced daily, but she knew Sergio had been through many hardships himself and his life had been uprooted and changed drastically as well, now that they were together. But when it came down to it, she knew very little about it.

She took a deep breath and leaned into him again, hoping he felt her love for him and that it would give him confidence. “And Sergio, I want to hear your stories, too. I want to know everything about you, mi amor. It pains me that I don’t - it saddens me that you don’t feel like you can share everything with me. I don’t want to push you too much but,” she snuggled closer to him, as if she were trying to make their bodies become completely one. He gripped her tighter, grateful for the contact as she pressed forward, asking difficult things of him. “But if you are holding back because you think it will change the way I feel about you, I promise that nothing in this world or any world beyond could ever make me love you less.”

He sighed deeply, burying his face against her hair on the pillow. “You say that, Raquel, but I am not so sure. It’s not a fairy tale, and I have done things, or almost done things, that I am afraid - “

“Sergio - “ she pulled back to look at him and cut him off. “Listen to me - I will let you decide what to say, I trust you to tell me the truth as much as you can. I don’t mind a few things kept, Lord knows I have parts of my past I’d prefer to forget, too. I don’t want any lies, ever. And I just want to know you,” she said more softly now. “Will you grant me that? You are here with my mother and daughter, who spend all day unraveling any romantic mysterious notion you might have ever had about my past and present, and you already read me like an open book. So you are at an advantage in many ways. As you usually are in all things,” she smiled at him indulgently. 

“Ah, that is where you are so wrong, Raquel,” he smiled gently back at her, tucking an errant strand of hair back behind her ear, cupping her face. 

“Am I?” she asked with pretend innocence, pressing a quick kiss into the palm of his hand, thinking he was flirting with her.

“If anyone has a clear advantage, it is you. I think we both know you are both my weakness and my strength. And whatever there is in between. It doesn’t matter what you do or say, in this life or another,” his voice dropped, suddenly moved by the truth of what he was saying. He cleared his throat and continued, softly. “I would do anything for you.”

Her eyes watered a little and she bit her lip before replying. “Well,” she said, clearing the emotion out of her throat, “I’m so glad you said so, because I have a request.” She smiled mischievously up at him. “Tell me a story.”

He sighed, leaning his forehead against hers. “Ay, Raquel.”

“Hey,” she whispered. “We started this relationship so quickly. You are the only man I’ve been with since Alberto - and we slept together, met my mother and daughter, I interrogated you, we each had each other in handcuffs, we broke and we healed and then were separated all in the span of what, five days? And then a year later, I moved my entire world to Palawan to be with you, bringing said mother and daughter. Then the next job, relocating together, and, well. We never really had the normal progression that relationships do, where you ask each other questions back and forth, get to know each other‘s history slowly before being seduced in a fake cider brewery - “

“You initiated our first kiss!” he interrupted, smiling but still indignant. “ _And_ our second!” he added.

Raquel chuckled. “It’s not my fault you’re so handsome.” She pressed her lips against his. “We took things fast, but it feels safer now, and now we have the time to take things slow. And for all the talking that we do, there is still so much I want to _know_ about you. I want you to trust me with your stories.”

Sergio thought for a moment, taking advantage of the natural pause in the conversation to pull her closer and tuck her under his chin as he looked up at the ceiling, a little blurry without his glasses on. Truthfully, when Raquel said they had taken things fast in their relationship, he had nothing much to compare it to. He’d had only a few, fleeting connections with women over his life, as most of it had been spent slowly adjusting to a sense of normal health after so many years living in a hospital bed, and then attending university, and then years spent planning the first and the second heist. What was normal in a relationship? He wasn’t sure that he knew. 

He sighed a little, stroking her hair. “Of course I trust you, you’re the only one I trust, really. I want to tell you what you want to know, I just . . . I’ve never shared much with anyone, and I’m not sure where to start. Can you help me?”

She smiled to herself. “Of course,” she murmured, shifting to turn about in his arms so he was spooned up against her backside. They resettled and she took a deep breath, wondering just what would be the best question to help him feel more comfortable to open up and be vulnerable with her, realizing he probably hadn’t much experience in doing so before with other people, and also wanting to ask a question that would satisfy her curiosity for his past. She could imagine the questions Paula would eventually start asking more specifically, especially given the conversation that had begun tonight. How Sergio had grown to love her daughter and mother was something that forever filled her with joy and love for him, and knowing that he still could feel so insecure about their returned affection for him made her love him even more.

“Hmm . . . “ she thought, drawing her fingers along where his arm was secured around her waist. He instinctively pulled closer to her and she smiled. “Because I know Paula will probably bring it up soon . . . will you tell me about your mother? You’ve shared a little, but . . . I know the family unit Paula is most familiar with and comfortable with is a mother and grandmother. She will naturally be very curious to know about this other ‘grandmother,’ to know about who your mother was. Maybe . . . maybe it’s best to practice talking about it with me. If you can,” she added, holding her breath and waiting for him to respond. She was trying to be sensitive, but also really wanted to know.

Raquel felt Sergio take a deep breath and then let it out slowly. She could almost hear the gears in his head turning, and she knew without looking that he was staring beyond where his head lay close to hers on the pillow, into the blurry far away, trying to decide what to say.

“Her name was María Ángeles. My father called her his own angel, I remember. Of the little I remember.” Sergio shifted behind Raquel, pulling her closer to him. She lifted a hand to tuck her hair behind her ear where his breath was tickling it and held her breath, waiting for him to continue. 

“My mother died when I was almost five?! I remember she was beautiful - long brown hair, wavy, kind eyes, I remember how - well. Her skin was soft. She was warm. She felt safe and smelled like our kitchen and her bedroom when she held me. She had a wide smile, but it was sad. She had health problems. Her behaviour, her skin, her hair. The doctors couldn’t figure out what was wrong and - anyway. I don’t remember many specifics, because I was so young and also starting to get sick myself. But I remember that she loved me, and she was so pretty that when you looked at her, when she smiled at you, you weren’t worried about anything. Everything felt like it would be okay in the end . . . ” His voice drifted off and he cleared his throat, suddenly feeling quite vulnerable, as if he had said too much or something silly. “But I suppose all children think their mothers are beautiful.”

“And all children are correct,” Raquel supplied, squeezing his arm where he held her. “It’s a secret mother super power, you see. To make our children feel safe just looking at us, smelling what we’ve made for dinner in our embrace, ease away the little pains of the day with our attention. I’m happy your mother did that for you.”

Sergio half-smiled into her shoulder, pressing a kiss there, grateful for the millionth time that she was his to walk beside him in this life. He relished in her touch for a moment before bargaining with himself to continue, because he knew that she deserved so much more than that.

“When it was over, and when my father was gone as well, and it was just Andres and me, I learned a little bit more. I was so young and my life in hospital was a reality and I hadn’t thought to ask many questions when she died.” He stopped speaking for a moment, so long that Raquel moved purposefully against him, rubbing his arm, shifting her shoulders after a few minutes to bring him back to her. “Anyway. I remember talking to Andres one day, I think about what the hospital was doing for Christmas. I wanted a way out of it - it was something quite childish but because of my condition, I was still kept on a children’s ward. And he mentioned our grandparents.” Raquel stilled in his arms, wondering what was about to be revealed. “I was so surprised, because it hadn’t even occurred to me, but then suddenly, I was so curious - of course we should have grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins, all of that. Where were these people? Why hadn’t they visited? Where had they been when Mama - and then Papa - through all the suffering and no one had stepped in to help?”

He paused for so long, Raquel was almost scared to ask him any questions, but wanted him to continue, to clarify, her psychology training not letting her shut down the part of her brain that wanted to be able to catalogue information, she finally broke the silence. “How old were you, do you remember? How old were you when your father . . .”

“I was thirteen. Andres was almost eighteen,” Sergio said softly. “So then . . . then it was just us. And sometimes I would get angry; I often didn’t have the energy, because when you go through puberty, things can change dramatically, and my treatments and all this was quite affected. But I remember asking Andres about our family, and he told me, I don’t know how true it is, but told me that our mother had come from a wealthy family, our father was from the wrong side of the tracks, but they had been in love, that sort of thing. Her family had disowned her to a certain extent, so while they could have helped pay for treatments, hers and mine and eventually those for Andres, my father had too much pride to ask. That’s why- “

“ - that’s when he started, wasn’t it?” supplied Raquel.

Sergio nodded. “I know it doesn’t make it right. And that also means I might have family out there somewhere, on my mother’s side, that I will never meet, never know about. I don’t know if they even know about me. After a while, I simply stopped asking questions and stopped caring about these people. It was just me, Andres, my father’s legacy, the memories of our mother.”

Raquel turned in his arms to press a kiss to his cheek as he lifted it to her. Her hand slipped behind his head and she brought her mouth to his to kiss, pressing soft reassurances to each other. She pulled away to settle her head back on the pillow, and Sergio hugged her closely to himself as they let their breaths match, cocooned in the warmth of their shared embrace.

After a pause, Raquel asked, “and so then? When it was you and Andres?”

Sergio sighed a little. “I think you have pieced some of this together already, but we ended up spending some time in Russia. There were new treatments. We made it to some sort of experimental hospital, I don’t know how, but Andres had passports and contacts and money. I didn’t ask too many questions." Raquel squeezed his hands around her body as he spoke, thinking to herself how dangerous, how precarious his situation must have been, but he simply hadn't know, because he had been a child. "And I spent time in hospital beds, reading every book he brought me in every language, practicing Russian with the nurses. Andres picked up women, jewels, information, who knows what else. We were there for two years, I believe. Maybe longer. Time didn’t seem to mean very much. He would bring me books, and stories, and flirt with the nurses. He said it was us against the world," Sergio's voice trailed off, and Raquel let there be a small silence between them.

“And then?” Raquel prompted, easing her hand over his around her waist, linking their fingers together.

Sergio paused for a moment. “And I got better, eventually. Or well enough that we knew I would live through the transportation back and could continue treatments in Spain.” Raquel whimpered a little at this and brought his hand up to her mouth to kiss his palm before returning it to her waist. “Andres always put up such a fuss at the hospital, demanding every possible treatment. And then they just worked one day. We waited a few weeks to be sure, and then after a few days in a private ambulance, don't ask me how, we came back to Spain. I kept improving, and Andres had made me promise to go to university. Then I was well enough, I enrolled in courses, and he dropped me off at the campus in Madrid and then I didn’t see him for a while . . . we spoke on the phone, he got married every few years and we would meet up for a couple of days, talk about our father’s plans, his ideas.” He took a deep breath and squeezed her a little closer to him, closing his eyes, thinking back on the past. 

Drawing another breath, he continued, his deep voice rumbling against her back. “He always asked so many questions about my experience at university. I think because he never went. He had so many ideas about what it should be like, but they were never about what I was learning, the subjects, the papers, the studying. He just wanted to know about the social aspect of it. Which, well. That wasn’t important to me. I would sometimes make up stories about friends I had, imaginary women I dated, just to keep him off my back. I always felt he was disappointed that I didn’t - I couldn’t - I never felt love for other people the way that he did. Andres always lived so alive, in the moment, and I never could. I never knew how. I always held his feelings against him like they were a weakness. But now I see how wrong I was. You see, he warned me that I would one day, that I would find someone who would make time stand still, make me forget everything I’d ever said or known. Be the most important part of my world.” He planted a kiss on her shoulder, then another, then opened his mouth against her soft skin and felt her sigh and relax into his embrace even more than she already was. “And I have, Raquel.” HIs lips moved from her shoulder up to her neck, drawing across the tendons that stretched as she shifted against his touch. His fingers eased slowly away from hers and found the hem of her shirt, slipping under to glance over her skin, feeling the goosebumps rising at his touch. “You’re everything to me.” He kissed her neck again, feeling her hips drift back towards his, hearing her sigh softly. “Everything, everything,” he breathed into her ear, and it struck him how much he meant it, how deeply he felt it, how much he wanted her to understand it.

“Oh,” he heard her whisper with feeling before she spun around in his arms. “Sergio, mi amor, you are everything to me, too,” she murmured before drawing his mouth to hers, kissing him with a fierceness he hadn’t expected. He felt her heart, every feeling she had ever had for him, pouring out in that kiss as her fingers wove into his beard and pulled him firmly to her, every inch of her body pressed up against his. 

He melted into it for a few moments before he responded in kind, shifting onto his back and pulling her atop him, legs falling to the side to accommodate hers and skin sliding against skin as her lips moved to kiss every inch of his face and neck, sliding her hands down his arms to reach his hands and entwine their fingers together and maneuvering them above his head. He moaned into their kiss now, reveling in her ownership as he always did. She pulled away, sitting up to take her top off, settling down again on top of him, both bare-chested now, and grinning into their kiss at the contact. 

Their kisses stayed slow and full of meaning and purpose - slow, wanting to please each other, to feel each moment of tenderness. His fingers were dragging up and down her spine, her hands cupping his face, her breasts pressing against his chest and tickled by the sparse hair there, everything felt heightened and intimate.

He pulled her forwards and up towards his mouth so he could kiss her neck, the soft spots behind her ear that made her sigh and press against him, unconsciously undulating her hips against his. They rocked together, back and forth, her hair falling over his face as he eased her higher, kissing her collarbone, moving lower, forcing her to shift and straddle above his hips so he could lick and suck and bite softly at her breasts, causing her to moan louder than she meant to. She glanced down at him and giggled softly. “Ooohhhhh . . . hello,” she said, shivering a little and smiling at him, his mouth open just below her nipple, glistening and puckered under his attention. He looked up at her with a smile, licking his lips. 

“Hello back,” he said, reaching his tongue out to lap at her, leaning in to suck more forcefully when she moaned again, her elbow giving way so she nearly dropped entirely on top of him. 

Sergio placed a hand on her lower back, one at the back of neck, and deftly flipped them both so she was suddenly beneath him, eyes wide open in surprise to find him between her legs and smiling at his cunning move.

“Hey!” she cried. “What - “

“That's enough story time, I think,” he started, leaning into her open mouth to move his tongue against hers, moaning purposefully and grinding his hips against hers slowly. He looked up at her with an eyebrow raised, remembering a moment long ago in an Italian monastery. “And now . . . now I think I should take off these stupid pajamas.”


	5. crazy love

She hadn’t intended to begin a tradition, but from that first night, the story telling continued. It began a few days later during their informal happy hour gatherings at sunset, leaning against each other in various ways on the rocking bench or the sofa, then walking hand in hand along the shore, and the gentle silences would be filled with wonderings. 

At first just Raquel asked questions; softly, consciously, treading slowly into the territory that was Sergio’s guarded past. She asked about growing up essentially in a hospital, and he described all his nurses as his surrogate aunties that would check in on him, pinch his cheeks, sneak him extra servings of whatever they knew to be his favorites. He talked about the books he read, the imaginary worlds he created from the small world he could see outside his window of people passing by on the street on their way to work. He explained the way he learned about body language and grew his intuition to understand others by watching, always observing, and noticing small details, anticipating the next move and possibilities and probabilities of everything around him.

Knowing Paula would have questions, he pieced together what memories he could of his mother, his father, various escapades that Andres had shared with him over the years. Over long, sandy walks, or dark nights cuddled close, he split open his past and his heart and tried to tell her as much as he could about what had been the only idea of family he’d ever known until he had come together with Raquel.

She could feel in the pauses, the silences, the tremors in his voice and the way his body seemed to feel against hers how he felt about explaining certain things; what it cost him to remember the moments that were often painful. Sergio never felt sorry for himself, but she did - for the pain he had suffered without knowing how to express it, for the experiences he had missed without anything to buffer or ease the pain of the absence of a normal childhood or adolescence as he had fought for his life.

There was a gap in his stories of the past where most people would have had a lot to say - in between being a child and then a teen and then a young adult in hospital, and then living at the university, and then the first heist, Sergio simply did not have much to tell. Most people would have filled these years with their first jobs, struggles with navigating serious relationships, traveling, discovering themselves as people, making mistakes. But not Sergio. There was no best friend, other than his brother, whom he clearly disagreed with over many aspects of life, but also seemed to worship in a way. Coming from a two child household herself, despite the obvious differences in their upbringings, Raquel felt she could empathize with the struggle between loving your sibling with your whole heart, but also sometimes being at complete opposites. Her heart still felt a constant ache whenever she let herself think about her sister. 

And where most people would have funny stories, embarrassing stories, or achievements to shyly reveal, Sergio did not. He never talked about any girlfriends of the past, any big travels, any strong memories. It was as if he truly did not have anything meaningful happening in his life for many years until the events that had brought them together, the lead up to that first meeting at the Hanoi cafe. 

As much as Raquel wanted to press further sometimes and ask more details about his past romantic relationships, she held back. There were some things she thought were better unknown, or better that he did not have to explain to her if he didn’t bring it up himself. Between them, she hoped he knew there was never anything to be ashamed about, and she didn’t want any lies, but she had decided she was more interested in his past, his childhood, his family, his studies, the things that had made him into the complicated man that she loved. Everything else that was important it felt like they were figuring out together.

Sergio soon claimed the right to ask her questions as well, wanting to know stories of her childhood, going to primary school, the first time she ever really got into trouble, her first kiss, learning how to drive a car with her parents. She quickly deduced he was asking about things he hadn’t been able to truly experience for himself, and always told him every memory she had freely, laughing at herself, explaining everything like she would to a child, so he never felt embarrassed to press her for more information. 

He asked about her childhood friends and what she had been like in school, her first time spending the night at someone’s house that wasn’t her parents, bringing home her first boyfriend. Every time she thought he had bored of their ‘game,’ he would casually ask her another question that would lead to revealing conversations or silly conversations between the two of them. But it was never dull, learning more about each other. He wanted to know about her first time on a plane, if she’d ever wanted to travel somewhere exotic, the weirdest food she’d ever tasted, the smells that reminded her most of being a child. What her hair looked like as a child, how she had styled it, what kind of clothes she had worn. Where had her family gone on holidays, what had she done during the summers off from school, what had she liked to study the most in college? There never seemed to be a pattern to it - they simply wanted to know everything about each other.

Sergio wanted to know the details of her first kiss, and her second, and exactly how the night in that camping tent went for her very first time. He never seemed to grow tired of hearing stories about her past. Raquel would try to describe each memory as faithfully as she could, reconstructing the life he would have been able to see in family photo albums, if they had had the luxury of bringing them with them when they’d fled Spain for good. But there was nothing of her past with them now except her memories, which she shared with laughter and sometimes quiet tears. Especially when recounting a particularly poignant memory of her mother, who grew more absent-minded by the day, or of her sister, who seemed to fade in and out of the family stories that Raquel told.

Sergio could sense there was more to be discovered about Marta, Raquel’s sister, and he could only imagine what kind of person she might be and what kind of relationship the two might have had that would have ever allowed Marta to end up with Alberto and all the problems he brought with him after he had separated from Raquel.

He often wondered about Raquel’s father, and his death when she had been just twenty years old, and how that had affected both her and Marivi, whom he had come to love so dearly.

But Sergio grew to understand the shift in her body language, the tone of her voice, that suggested she didn't want to keep talking about a particular subject. He would change directions, ask something different, and didn’t question why. He knew that if Raquel could, she would tell him, and he trusted when it was too difficult in the moment.

They had a lifetime together now, he supposed. There was time yet still.

“So,” he asked one night, pushing his glasses up as they walked hand in hand along the shore, “these conversations we have been having . . . they are all probably things that we would have covered during dates, slowly meeting each other's family, long weekends, those steps in a typical relationship,” he said. 

“Probably,” she answered, seemingly unbothered.

He persisted, driving at a point she wasn’t picking up on yet. “Things we would have known about before moving across the world with your mother and daughter,” he stated.

“Mmmm,” she cocked her head to the side and bit at her lip in pretend deep thought. “Yes, before the first time I moved my life across the world for you, in a normal situation, I probably would have known a LOT more about you.” His heart stuttered for a moment at that, but she laughed, her teeth showing and her nose wrinkling up in a way that always made him feel a bit weak. “For example, had I known that you only listen to classical music, and are so meticulous about bathroom towel folding, and that your favourite flavour of ice cream is mint chip? Huge deal breakers,” she teased. “Such an inferior flavour.”

“Hey!” he objected with a short laugh, smiling as he pulled on her hand to spin her into his chest. 

She came willingly, having expected his argument. She pressed against him and laughed and stood up on tiptoe to kiss his nose. “Sergio - we’ve talked about this,” she looked at him meaningfully, her voice low. “Maybe normal couples would know a lot more about each other, big things and small things and ice cream flavour things, but I don’t see the point in comparing ourselves to others. Who could ever understand what we have together? Who could ever understand the way I feel when I am with you?” She brought one hand up to his cheek and pulled him in to share a sweet kiss. “Isn’t the important thing that we’re learning about each other on our own time? That we care enough to ask the questions and grow closer together?” she smiled, looking up into his deep brown eyes. “We’ve shared a lot of intense experiences together, and love and loss. And nearly all the time we’ve been together, we’ve been with other people, and either very focused on a goal, or helping Paula and my mother adjust to our new lives. It’s nice to remember that we both have a past, too, and lived somewhat normal lives. I like thinking about you growing up, trying to imagine what you looked like, picture you in your first apartment planning the heist. I love that you care enough about me that every question you ask feels important to you.” She bent her head and kissed his knuckles where he held her other hand against his chest, then pulled back and kept holding his hand as she stepped forward to continue their walk, leaning down to pick up a shell and toss it back into the waves. 

They walked on a bit further, in a comfortable silence, looking at each other and sharing a smile every few moments, their steps slow, their hips bumping into each other on occasion, both a little lost in their own thoughts about the other, and neither in a hurry to speak again.

The sun was nearly out of sight now, dipping low on the horizon, casting all kinds of colors in the sky. They paused at the same time without speaking and Sergio stepped behind Raquel, placing his arms around her waist and leaning down around her small frame, pressing a kiss to her shoulder and then to her neck. She leaned back into his warmth, a contented smile on her face, reaching up a hand to draw her fingers against his jawline as he nuzzled against her. 

He drew a breath, and she knew in that moment he was working up to ask her a question. “Raquel - does it - does it bother you that I have so little experience in this? In being in a relationship, and with children, and just - I guess just sharing a life with someone?”

She turned quickly in his arms to look at him. “Sergio, you know that it doesn’t. You have to let go of this insecurity, mi amor.” She ran her hand through his hair, gripping it softly. “Look at me - does it bother you that when we met, I had a broken heart I didn’t think would ever be repaired? That I was determined to never love again, that I was prepared to settle for casual relationships and passing flings?” 

He looked upset but shook his head. “Of course not.”

“Well then?” she pressed back, eyebrows raised at him in question. “Then how could it ever bother me that I get to be your first love? When you get to be my last and the only one that matters?” her voice broke a little over the last few words as a wave of emotion washed over her.

He found he couldn’t speak. But he nodded at her and then leaned forward to wrap his arms completely around her, pulling her as close to him as possible. She snuggled happily into his chest. 

“I love you, Raquel,” he whispered into her hair. He could feel her smile against his shoulder as he said it. After all they had been through, he had promised her he’d never not say those words whenever he felt like it. Which now happened several times a day. And it never failed to thrill her and melt her at the same time whenever he did.

The beach had grown dark around them, the tide calming and it suddenly occurred to Raquel how long they had been walking along. “Let’s head back, shall we? It will be dinner time soon. Time for another lesson with your new favorite pupil.” She tilted her head back to smile at him, eyes shining. He shook his head to clear away from the strength of their emotions and connection and the glow emanating from her eyes and looked around him, realizing that it was indeed growing quite late. It was time to head back for one of the favorite parts of his day. 

Sergio had started teaching Paula checkers, hoping to eventually work their way up to his favorite game - chess. Paula had revelled in his undivided attention a few nights of the week for the last month or so as he explained the various strategies and rules of the game. Raquel would spend the time checking in with her mother and their live-in nurse, fixing an appetizer or mixing a drink for her and Sergio (while delivering a Shirley Temple to Paula, which always made her feel so grown up), and trying her hardest not to eavesdrop on the growing relationship between Paula and Sergio that gave her so much joy and peace in the decisions she’d made that led them to where they were. Raquel loved that Paula had started referring to him as her father without prompting from anyone, and knew that in order for their intimacy and for Sergio’s confidence in that role to grow, they needed to have alone time without her guidance or supervision. Sergio could still sometimes ask a hundred questions a day about how to connect with Paula, and would still get nervous about it, having very little experience with children, but he was growing more and more natural by the day in assuming the role of father.

After a chat with her mother and fixing a side dish for dinner or a fresh round of drinks, Raquel would often wander over to where Sergio and Paula sat hunched over a board in concentration, ruffling the hair of both and asking how the game was going. She got a secret delight in pretending she had no idea about how to play checkers, and letting Paula explain how the game was going, allowing Paula and Sergio to bond and share a private laugh at “how silly Mama is!”

“She’ll never be ready for the true strategy of chess if you keep letting her beat you so easily at checkers, Sergio!” Raquel had whispered in his ear one night as they’d stood up to walk to the dinner table when it was time. 

“I can’t help that she has a secret weapon,” he’d responded. “She’s just like her mother. She has a smile that breaks down all my defenses.”

Not in any rush, but knowing they’d been gone for longer than they’d intended, they walked back towards their house, hand in hand, both smiling as they came into view of Paula sitting at the table with the checker board set. 

“FINALLY! You’ve been gone forEVER!” she exclaimed, sighing and rolling her eyes with the inaccurate sense of time that only a child really understands. Her feet were swinging under the chair, as they didn’t quite yet touch the floor, and she had braids sticking out behind her ears, which framed the huge grin on her face.

Raquel and Sergio stopped and exchanged a smirk and an eyeroll of their own. He moved to join Paula at the table, but Raquel twitched at his hand still held in hers to pull him back for a moment.

“Hey,” she said softly, as he came closer. The tone of her voice bid him to come closer still. “I love you, Sergio,” she whispered in that way that made his stomach drop out. Both her hands came to hold his face against hers as she leaned up to kiss him, her lips soft and sweet and pliant against his, causing his arms to wrap around her body and bring her flush against his beating heart until - 

“Ewwww stoooopppp,” Paula cried, having just reached the age where affection shown between her parents was the most revolting thing to ever witness on planet earth.

Sergio and Raquel pulled back from each other, suppressing laughter. “To be continued?” he murmured hopefully.

“Oh, definitely,” Raquel whispered back with a wink as they separated. 

The rest of the evening was expectedly pleasant - Sergio and Paula played chess, Raquel spent time with her mother, they all shared a family dinner, and Raquel was pleasantly surprised to be selected to read a few chapters to Paula before she fell asleep.

Upon arriving at their bedroom, Raquel had expected a continuation of the intimate mood and passion they’d been feeling earlier. Sergio would often follow these vulnerable interludes with candles, some soft music, and eyes full of desire for her. But when she opened the door, she found him already asleep on his side of the bed, her lamp left on, and only the sound of his steady breathing to fill the air.

Feeling a bit confused, Raquel did her best to brush off the feeling and simply got ready for bed. Was he truly just really tired? Had all the emotions of the day been too much for him? Had she read longer to Paulita than she’d thought? 

It was unusual in itself that Sergio wouldn’t wait up for her to at least cuddle a little and talk about the day before mutually deciding to go to sleep. But especially after the vulnerable and loving moments they’d shared just hours ago, Raquel felt herself feeling suddenly insecure and momentarily debated making enough noise to wake him up to pay her some attention.

She shook her head at the thought and after pulling on one of his faded t-shirts and some pajama shorts, she climbed quietly and carefully onto her side of the bed, turning off the lamp and easing herself down under the light covers as gently as she could so as not to wake him.

But much to her gratification, as soon as she had settled into a comfortable sleeping position, Sergio shifted around and snuggled up close to her backside, throwing an arm over her waist and mumbling something unintelligible into her ear with a warm breath that tickled but also filled her with a sense of relief. The feel of his strong legs against the backs of hers, the alignment of the bottoms of her feet to the tops of his caused her to take a deep, grateful breath and tell herself she had been silly to feel the slightest bit slighted. He chose that moment to intertwine his fingers with hers as they splayed across her stomach, and feeling totally safe and loved, she snuggled back into his spaces and promptly fell asleep.

Still warm from the lovely feeling of being wrapped in his arms, Raquel woke the next morning and turned over, expecting to see Sergio’s sleeping form on the bed next to her, eager to wake him up with a sensual demonstration of just how much she adored him and how committed she was to their life together.

But instead of the man she loved beside her, she found only a piece of origami.

It was a rose pink shade of paper, folded into a perfect heart. She picked it up, confused and disappointed, turning it over in her hands. She glanced over to the bathroom and quickly ascertained he wasn’t inside there, and so moved to open the heart, which appeared to be a note. Her own heart sank when she read the contents - 

_“ R -_

_There is something important I have to do. I might be gone a few days. I will miss you at each moment. Give my regards to my girls. I love you._

_\- S”_


	6. pienso en ti

“Good morning. Where’s Papa?” had been Paula’s first question at the breakfast table, and one Raquel wasn’t exactly sure how to answer. 

“He had to leave on a business trip, _mi cielito_ ,” she responded, as casually as possible.

Paula cocked her head in confusion. “He didn’t say anything about a trip last night.”

“No, darling, I think it was a rather spur of the moment decision,” Raquel admitted, and then looked off to the water, willing their boat to appear on the horizon, Sergio at the helm.

Paula was blessedly silent after this, having accepted what her mother said as a good enough reason, even as Raquel pondered it herself. Why had he left so suddenly? It all seemed a little strange, but what about their lives was ever normal? If she could just call or text him and assure herself that he was okay, that they were okay, that would make all the difference. But that was an impossibility, and she knew it. He had once explained to her that nearly all communications would have to be transmitted through the lines on the mainland, that connected to his employee hub in Pakistan. After the mistakes Rio and Tokyo had made, they knew they couldn’t be too careful. But she often wished there was a way that they could even just text somehow on the frequent trips he took to the shores to gather supplies. 

Raquel sighed. She would simply have to wait until he returned, hopefully soon. Because not only did she feel a little strange about his manner of departure, but she simply missed him. Missed him the moment he was out of sight. They had been through too much and fought too hard to be together for it to not mean absolutely everything that they could be together. And so when they were apart . . . 

“Good morning, my beautiful girls!” Maraví exclaimed, sweeping into the room in a bright yellow caftan and a big floppy brown hat, her nurse trailing a few steps behind her. Raquel brightened considerably to see her mother in such a good mood, seemingly lucid and happy to face the day. She opened her arms and spun in the barstool to reach for her mother, pulling her into a warm embrace before guiding her over to a grinning Paula. 

“Mama! You’re in a good mood this morning!” Raquel exclaimed, winking over at her nurse. 

“Of course I am, darling! It’s almost your 45th birthday! A lucky year - an auspicious year! And the anniversary of one of the happiest days of my life - when I became a mother!” Maraví exclaimed, still clutching to a giggling Paula and pressing kisses to her cheeks full of yoghurt and berries. “I think we should celebrate all week, don’t you?”

Raquel stilled in her barstool. She was shocked her mother could remember how old she would be this year. It felt like a gift that her mind was so clear and perceiving today, when Raquel was feeling a bit off-kilter. But she thought back to what her mother was saying - it was indeed her birthday soon - just a few days away, in fact. Was this the reason Sergio had taken off so suddenly - to get her something for her birthday? He was definitely a secret romantic . . . but they had hardly celebrated her birthday at all in the scant time they had spent together. Her birthday was never something she had made a big deal about or really cared too much to celebrate. She wasn’t sure he even properly remembered the day. Had her mother given him a hint about it in one of her rare moments of clear thought? That seemed unlikely. And yet, she wondered . . . 

Until a blueberry plopped into her coffee. She looked up to see her mother and daughter sharing a conspiratory glance. “Alright, alright, we can play a little hooky today!” she giggled, reveling in the squeals of delight that came from her mother and daughter at her proclamation. “It is my birthday week after all, and so we shall do nothing except . . . well. . . whatever I want?” she said, nearly in question, looking back at her girls for confirmation. 

“Whatever Mama wants!” Paula cheered with her spoon raised in the air, and then repeated over and over as if it were the cry of the country.

Raquel closed her eyes and leaned back a little bit, as if she were in deep thought. She leaned back, cocked her head, pretending to think. 

“Hm. Well. I guess the first thing I would like is for everyone to have a really nutritious breakfast, with LOTS of fruit, maybe even broccoli could go into this yogurt - “  
“Mama!” Paula cried, rolling her eyes even as she dug into her yogurt to take a big bite, exaggerating the effort to swallow the berries.

“ - because we are going to have a BIG day, ladies!” Raquel finished, laughing at the looks on the faces of her daughter and mother. She took a moment to giggle at their excitement before pushing lingering thoughts of Sergio to the side. She loved and trusted him, and if she was going to be granted this gift of undivided attention from two of the people she loved best in the world, she would take it. What _did_ she want to do most in the world? She stopped for a moment to think . . . it had been so long since she’d taken a moment to consider what would just feel nice, with no consequences to ponder, no contingency plans to plot, none of Sergio’s second and triple-guessing paranoia to consider . . . 

She paused, and even though she knew he had no idea what she was thinking at that moment, she apologized to him mentally for calling it ‘paranoia’ when really it was just how much he loved them and wanted to be prepared in all ways for any possibility. Sergio thought in extreme detail, in ways she often couldn’t understand, because it was in his nature to consider every possibility and come up with contingency plans, hundreds of them, for all the moments in their lives and any chance at exposure or capture. Why had she called it ‘paranoia’ when she knew all of his detail-oriented, protective, intense worry and caution for her and her family was absolutely necessary? Because at the end of the day, they were wanted criminals. Sometimes life was so easy and natural for them that she could forget that.

Raquel paused again and realized that that was what she wanted for a day with her mother and daughter - a “normal” day - as normal as they could possibly achieve with their new lives on this island paradise. 

“Vale - here’s what I think would be so fun for my birthday week - I want us to give each other pedicures and manicures, I want to have a picnic on the beach, I want to collect special seashells, we will have a special dinner where we dress up, and I want you to make me dessert - okay?” Raquel smiled deeply at both of them, gathering them into her idea with the warmth of her eyes.

“Yay! That sounds so cool! Can I wear makeup? Can I do your hair?” Paula asked, and Raquel laughed as she promised a yes. 

“But shouldn’t Papa be here? If we’re celebrating it today?” Paulita asked suddenly, the question on everyone’s mind. 

“My actual birthday is still a few days away, and this will be something just for us girls, okay? Can you imagine Papa doing nails and dressing up for dinner?”

“Maybe not the nails, but . . . he is always sort of dressed up, isn’t he?” Paula queried, which only made Raquel giggle. It was still very much in Sergio’s nature to be more formally dressed than everyone else around them. 

“He had to go do something important, mi amor. He will be back soon, I know it. But we have a lot to do, so finish your breakfast, brush your teeth, and let’s decide what to do today, okay?” 

Paula nodded as she smiled, pleased with the answer for now, and Raquel hoped that her increasing combination of worry, fear, and something close to anger or annoyance wasn’t truly showing through on her face.

Unfortunately, her mother knew her better. She did have the advantage over Paula by several years, after all. 

“Raquel, soon to be birthday girl, and my daughter, my love, tell me what is wrong,” Maraví said as she sidled up to her.

Raquel fought the urge to roll her eyes. “Mama, nothing is wrong, I swear, I’m just a little worried because - no - I am not worried - it’s just that - “

“Sergio is gone so suddenly?” her mother cut in, looking at her knowingly. Raquel eyed her back suspiciously. 

“Do you know anything about this, Mama?” she asked. 

“I don’t think so,” her mother answered breezily. “But it’s going to be okay, Raquel. I promise you,” Mariví smiled as she drew her hands up to cup Raquel’s face.

“What makes you say that, Mama?” Raquel asked back, looking deeply into the eyes that had held the answers to her questions for so long.

“Because he loves you,” Mariví said simply, shrugging her shoulders. Her thumbs caressed over Raquel’s cheekbones. “The love that a mother always hopes and prays that her children might know, even if she never might know it herself, he has for you. And you have for him. So I refuse to believe anything terrible has happened, even though I can see that fear in your eyes.” 

“It just all seemed, given the timing, a little - “

“Strange?” her mother supplied. “Raquel, I know that the two of you keep many things from me, and that is fine, as I know I am just barely holding on to the things that I do want to know.”

Raquel looked up at her mother, startled at the very honest confession of how the disease was taking over her mind and her memories.

“But I do know - ” Mariví continued, “that that man loves you. Oh, how he makes you smile, Raquel. When you are the only one that laughs at his jokes, when you grab his hand and think no one is looking, when you fold right into him and he holds you just so. It makes me so happy to see you so happy.”

Raquel shook her head and tried to clear it even as she was smiling at all the things her mother was revealing to her.

“Buenos días, Señora Raquel,” Mateo called, walking up to the table. Mother and daughter turned to see one of the sons of the caretakers of the property walking up to them. 

“Buenos, Mateo. What are you doing out here? You’re usually . . . “ Raquel trailed off, noticing a box in his hand. It was wrapped and had a bow on it, sloppily tied, but still a bow. She quirked her head to the side and wondered . . . Mateo smiled as he noticed where her eyes had rested.

“I know, normally I am working on operations elsewhere, but your . . . el jefe and I ran into each other when he arrived, and I was able to work something out with him. He sent me here straightaway with this gift for you, and I will get to spend some time with my family.” He handed the box over to Raquel, who thanked him, and turned to her mother with a look of surprise on her face.

“Well, you’ll catch flies if you keep your mouth open like that. I guess it’s your first birthday present! Open it, my love,” Mariví encouraged her. 

Raquel set it on the table - it was about the size of a shoe box - and unwrapped it, slowly gathering speed. Under the ribbon and paper (which she noticed was a local newspaper dated from yesterday and a red ribbon that must have been used for something else, which made her smile for some reason) she found a nondescript cardboard box. She rattled it around gently and tried to listen to the contents, making her mother laugh.

“I don’t think it’s alive, Raquel, just open it!”

Raquel lifted the top and inside - “a phone?!” she gasped. A note was attached and she quickly recognized it as Sergio’s handwriting. 

My love - 

I’m sorry I left so quickly and with so little explanation - I promise there is good news at the end of it. This phone will dial directly to me - I am glad we will be able to communicate during the times we have to be apart. I look forward to hearing about our turtle and the ferret, as well.

Yours always.

  
  


Raquel felt herself warming from within. She could read between the lines of his text, referring to them all by pet names, calling Paula their ferret and her mother the turtle, indicating that even though it was safe, they should remain careful. She trusted him. He’d made it happen. He’d known how much she’d wished for a way for them to communicate during the times they had to be apart, and he’d mentioned looking into a way to do it safely, but they’d spoken no more about it. If this was to be her only birthday gift, she was already beyond blessed. 

She smiled at her mother and explained she had to make a phone call, that they should part to get dressed and ready for the day, and then headed towards her bedroom to press “dial” for the only connection she needed to hear at the moment. 

He answered on the first ring. “Mi amor?” his voice, even a bit scratchy coming over several connections, she was sure, and a bit altered by what she was sure was voice alteration technology, still filled her heart. 

“I’m here. Hey. How are you?” she ducked her head and smiled, feeling silly for being so glad to hear from him and knowing all the trouble he must have gone through to make this happen. She heard him suck in a deep breath and exhale. 

“Just miss you. So happy to hear your voice.”

She could only imagine what version of her voice he was hearing through the many VPNs and IP addresses and time lapse and alteration technology he was hearing, but she understood the feeling completely.

“I’m happy, too. Thank you,” she whispered back. “I’m guessing this is quick?”

“Yes, my love. I’m sorry. Two more days, I think. But we can talk when you want, I will always answer, just to check in, okay?”

She wasn’t surprised by his answer - no technology was foolproof and even though his team had probably secured lines and put a million contingency plans into place, it was prudent of them to try a few quick conversations before they relied on the untraceability of the line. She was happy just knowing he’d made the effort and to hear his words come across the small ocean that currently separated him, if he was indeed where she thought he was.

“I understand. I love you. Thank you. I love you so, so much.”

There was such a long pause that she thought perhaps the call had dropped. “S- someone there?!” She caught herself just in time before she said his name over the line.

To her relief, the sound of him clearing his throat came cackling back through the phone. “I am. I am here. I will always be here for you.” 

Someone who knew him less than she did might not have been able to pick up on the emotion behind his answer. The words he wasn’t able to say. But she did.

“Vale,” she smiled. “The ringtone is on high. Can’t wait to hear what it is. Love you.” she ended the call without waiting to hear it back, knowing that he loved her, too. 


	7. tupelo honey

The moment he heard her voice, even more than he knew at the time he made the decision to go, Sergio understood that it wasn’t the best idea to take off early in the morning without a warning, an explanation, a goodbye. But the nature of the news he had received - the fragility of it, the unexpectedness of it, the timing - had made him decide on impulse to ask his captain on standby to be ready to go early in the morning. 

And to be honest, he hadn’t expected to be asleep before Raquel came back, that was truly an innocent mistake. She had stayed reading with Paula longer than usual, and he had drifted off, despite his nerves and his trepidatious excitement. "I'm . . . this is a sign of getting older," he'd realized. "I tried to stay awake, but I couldn't." He put that thought to the side for now, because the next morning, he’d been grateful he had been asleep when she’d come to bed and that he’d had to leave before she woke up, because then he hadn’t had to answer any of her questions or temper his nerves or his mood. Because she knew him better than he knew himself and always saw right through him.

After all they'd been through, the last thing he wanted to do in this whole world was tell Raquel anything less than the whole truth, when he could. But to keep a surprise from her felt different. And if this all worked out according to his plan, she would understand and the brief separation and anxiety would be worth it. Or so he hoped.

But even knowing it would just be a few days apart made him feel guilty, not only about keeping a sort of secret, but just about being away from his girls. He missed their laughter, the easy steps he took around their now familiar house, the worn-in routine of a shared life, the warm weight of Paula’s arms around his neck, the way Raquel’s fingers found a way to slip into his whenever she was near. Just the last few years with Paula had shown him the dramatic leaps and bounds a child could make in any area during one's absence, and he hated to miss a moment of Paula's achievements or discoveries.

And he felt embarrassed about how much he looked forward to again seeing the dents in the pillows in their bed that reminded him that he had a designated place to sleep next to someone. He’d never be alone again.

This whole relationship concept, the rhythm, the changes it brought was still new to him on many levels. He was constantly learning and sometimes wondered if he would ever catch up and get the hang of it, if it would ever seem to make complete sense to him. The time they’d spent in Palawan had changed him in a million ways, but now that the second heist was over and they had been through even more intense experiences, this time as a committed couple that has sworn to each other that nothing on earth could separate them again, he couldn’t imagine ever wanting to do something so outlandish again, no matter who it was to save. 

No. 

He had heard her die, they had been separated according to his plan, which hadn’t worked, after they had argued, because of his pride. And he had heard her executed.

He had heard her executed.

Knowing that it was fake didn’t undo the sounds, the vivid memories he had of that moment, the days he spent in certainty that she had been taken from him and then in a limbo that she might still be alive and his only focus, because fuck the heist, was to get her back and never let her out of his sight again. Just because they were all safe and together now didn’t mean that for one single second he ever forgot - 

He had lived in a world where there was no Raquel. He had lived there until Tokyo had suggested otherwise, until he was able to convince himself otherwise, until he was able to save her. But he had still lived in that world, and its dark and tumultuous feelings still came to haunt him from time to time and he would never, ever go back there if he could. He wouldn’t wish the feelings of absolute meaningless and despair he had felt, thinking Raquel was lost to him forever, on his worst enemy. And his list of enemies was not a short list. 

No. 

If any gods existed, and if they were listening, all Sergio wanted for the rest of his days was to lay in the hammock with Raquel nestled in his arms, watch Paula playing on the beach, hear Maravi laugh. Dear Lord - he just wanted to have the same conversation nearly every day with Maravi about the garden and the ocean and the weather if he had to, if only so they can have the occasional days where she is lucid and watch Raquel hang on every word, asking questions, reliving memories, trying to make more with the woman who is the mother she will always carry in her mind. He wanted to do nothing more than go to bed and wake up with Raquel tucked into his side. Cook his girls dinner. Take walks along the shore at sunset with Raquel. Keep teaching Paula checkers and chess and find small ways to connect with the girl who now calls him “Papa” without any prompting. All the money in the world to be able to tuck Raquel’s hair behind her ears every day. Kiss Raquel’s neck. Slip his hands under her shirt and feel the smooth skin of her back. Hear Raquel say his name in a whisper, as a reminder, to bring him back to earth from his mental wanderings, as a plea, as a prayer, as she came apart in his arms.

Whatever he can do to make that happen more, make these women happier, freer, stronger, more comfortable, he will do. He will never get to watch anyone of his own flesh and blood grow older. Too many genetic defects, bad bad luck, choices, whatever it is, he doesn’t know and he doesn’t blame anyone anymore. “My girls,” he calls them, this is his family now, and he feels such a strong bond that even though he’s only known about their existence for the last five years, it’s clear that these are the people he is meant to live for. 

The cell phones are a saving grace. As much as it means to Raquel, it means even more to him that he is able to finally give something back to her when she has sacrificed so much; it gratifies him to no end to solve a small problem, a request that she had that they might be in communication with each other. Sergio feels a thrill in it, even as he has to admit that if he had never left her so suddenly, there would be no need to have these lines of communication. If they were just never apart, they would never have to - 

Some slowly growing and adjusting part of his brain reminds him that it is normal, healthy, encouraged even, to have time apart as a couple. That’s what normal couples do. And they have separate interests, separate friends, even. He scoffs at that thought. When had he ever really had friends? He can count no real acquaintances beyond people he met through his brother. And that had never been a problem, planning the heists and reading books and thinking of ways to solve the world’s problems had always been enough for Sergio. Until Raquel. 

Their circumstances are beyond the ordinary, to be sure, but this little ordinary thing of having phones to call each other on makes a difference. It’s funny, really, that their relationship began on the phone so many years ago, and now can be made stronger through a phone again.

He’s laying in bed, staring at the ceiling, counting the revolutions of the lazy fan overhead, tapping each one with his index finger against where he is holding the phone to his chest and praying for it to ring when she calls. He answers it immediately, just like before, but takes a breath to remind himself not to say her name.

“Good evening,” he says instead, gratified to hear her chuckle at his formality. She can probably guess that he had to check himself before he spoke, that he’s excited for them to be able to talk.

“So glad I was able to catch you near the phone,” she teases.

“Yes, well. I’ve been waiting for a very important person to call,” he says.

“What a coincidence, I was, too, but then I decided to make the call myself. I’ve never been very good at sitting around, waiting for things I want.”

“I see,” he answers, and a small part of him is transported back to a dirty, damp warehouse where he was speaking to an inspector on the phone for the first time, without the slightest idea what was about to happen to his life in the next few days. He had felt even then the desire to flirt with, impress the voice on the other end of that line. “Well, I hope you get everything you ever wanted.”

“Oh, I think I have it all,” she replies softly, and it makes his heart yearn for her. 

“I’m trying to picture you,” he says after a beat. He thinks he hears her smile at that. What he wants to ask is “What are you wearing, Inspectora?” But they both know a question like that is surely a marker being tracked by Interpol through satellites monitoring conversations all over the world.

“Blue. Light blue,” she says, and it’s all he needs to picture her in the gauzy top and bottom set that skims her shoulders and thighs just so, that slides up so agreeably beneath his hands, that sets off the tan of days spent on the beach. He can picture her now, can feel the fabric slipping between his fingers, imagine them together in their bed, or on the swing looking out to the waves, in a hammock, on the beach - 

A staticky hitch in her breath across the line brings him back from his musings, and he thinks she might be picturing them together, too.

“Perhaps tomorrow?” she says, hopefully.

Sergio calculates things quickly in his head, knowing he waits upon a few more items, both in the physical sense and also in terms of information to be delivered.

“As soon as I can, mi vida. I’ll put pressure on - “

“Don’t worry about it,” she cuts him off, sighing. “It’s important,” _otherwise you wouldn’t have left, right?_ He hears the words she isn’t saying in the silence.

“As soon as I can. Please know I wish I was there now.”

A long moment passes and he can hear her take a deep breath, steeling herself against the forces she can’t control, and the ones he’s chosen to guide their lives.

“I love you,” they say at the same time, his tone unsure, sounding like an offering and hers like a trusting acceptance. But the simultaneous nature of their declarations makes them both chuckle a bit.

“Well, then,” she whispers, and he can almost feel her breath against his shoulder, imagine them curled up against each other in bed.

“We’ll chat soon, mi amor. Sweet dreams,” he offers, sure of those few lines at least, and then waits until he hears her click her line off before he hangs up, clutching the cell phone back to his chest and looking back up to the ceiling to recalibrate the next several hours in his head, weighing the pros and cons, the costs and benefits. In the end, the one image that keeps coming to his mind’s eye is Raquel, sleeping on her side, nestled deep into her pillow with her body curved back towards the empty space his had left when he’d slowly crept out of it to get dressed in the wee hours of the morning, responding to an alert on his encrypted satellite phone from his trusted contacts that had been expressly forbidden to engage that line unless one of several predetermined sequences of words had come into their world of knowledge. He would be disturbed for little else. He wonders if she’s been cold at all in his absence and curses himself for leaving.

“Right,” he said to himself, before picking up a different phone to make some calls. It would take some greasing of hands, but he was pretty sure he could make it back home soon, possibly by tomorrow night. He was determined to make the trip as quickly as possible, especially now having heard her voice sound just a bit sad on the phone line. The knowledge he’d caused it moved him into action and he swung his legs over the side of the bed, into his slippers and began to pace from corner to corner of the room, one hand beginning to run over his beard and into his hair, the other on his hip or gesticulating in the air, swiping away at different imaginary obstacles in the air until he had it worked out to his satisfaction.

He dressed in his customary suit, although the fabrics he wore now were much lighter than in Spain, and fit the wig and colored contacts on before heading out the door. His people on the other end of those phone calls were working quickly (with the promise of a financial bonus) to get him verification of the information he needed to head back to the island, but he had a few more things to locate and purchase which made sense to no one but him and his family, and he preferred to run these errands on his own. 

“I have to do this alone, because it wouldn’t make sense to anyone else. It’s a family joke,” he thought to himself, as he walked out the door of the hotel and headed out to the taxi stand. “No one would understand.” He smiled to himself, feeling warm and safe all over that such a sentence was one he could say, was something true about his life he had never dreamed would be possible.


	8. Remedy

After the gift of the cell phone so she could connect with Sergio that morning, the day she’d spent with her mother and daughter had been the perfect “girls only day” celebration spontaneously created to honor Raquel for her birthday week. From the moment they’d decided to have “the most fun EVER!” as Paula had declared, they’d giggled and played and spent precious time together. It struck Raquel, as it always did whenever it happened, that it was one of the few kinds of moments Maraví was truly present, despite the disease that constantly threatened to take more and more of her mother’s mind and soul and spirit away from them. Whenever there was an occasion to celebrate, to express that joie de vivre that seemed to emanate so readily from her mother, that's when she was the clearest, the most engaged. Raquel vowed to make the most of the time together, indulging in every whim any of them had, even though it was ostensibly _her_ day to celebrate.

To that end, they had chosen new ribbons to weave around Maraví’s favourite beach hat, and Maraví had delighted Paula to no end by telling her embarrassing stories about Raquel as a little girl. Paula had set up a “salon” and took her job as manicure and pedicure professional very seriously, applying glitter nail polish (that made Raquel groan internally, because she knew glitter nail polish was notoriously difficult to remove and they did not, as of yet, have any nail polish remover at their island abode) to both her mother and grandmother - fingernails and toenails and a fair amount of skin, to boot. Paula received her tip in the form of an avocado-banana smoothie (“we must balance out all the treats, my darling!”) with as much grace as any child could muster. 

Every whim had been delighted. A long afternoon walk on the beach had gathered many seashells to turn into a craft Paula knew she wanted to make but didn’t know what it was yet “but it will be BEAUTIFUL for you, Mama!” They had worn their prettiest dresses to dinner, which they ate standing and sitting on and dancing around barstools around the kitchen island as a special treat. The freedom of movement made it easier to pause eating to get up and shimmy to the music they played. After they’d eaten everything delicious in the house, Paula made them a banana split to share as they watched the sunset. “Only one candle!” had been the firmest request Raquel had made the entire day, not wanting to actually celebrate her birthday too much before the actual day, and conscious that the love of her life was absent. 

Paula and Maraví had sung “Happy Birthday,” sweetly, if a bit off-key, and three times "for good luck!" as Maraví had insisted. Knowing Sergio would have argued philosophically against the concept of superstitions and luck, and they all would have groaned good-naturedly, but he would have insisted against the girls gang against him, only made Raquel somehow more grateful for this time together and also miss Sergio with every part of her. But Raquel had blown out the candle in confidence, knowing that so many of her wishes had come true already, there was not much more she could ask for in that moment.

Exhausted and sunburnt at the end of it, they’d showered and found comfortable pajamas to wear before they all cuddled together in Raquel and Sergio’s bed, falling asleep to “Sleeping Beauty,” which was one of Raquel and Paula’s favorite Disney movie to watch. It happened to be one of the movies Maraví could remember seeing in the theater growing up and showing to her daughters as children, so it always brought her joy.

“When they were little, your mama and tía watched this movie so many times, they wore through the tapes!” she had whispered to Paula, as if it were a state secret, glancing over Paula's head to eye Raquel mischievously. 

“What are 'tapes,' abuela?” Paula had tried to ask, confused by the reference. 

But her grandmother continued in her musings of the past, as if she hadn’t heard Paula at all. “I sent your abuelo to the store to buy a new one immediately. And he went! In the rain! He knew how important it was. He would do anything for 'his little angels,' he called them. And he knew that if we went a week without watching that movie, my word, the house would have been in total chaos. You girls loved it so, mija,” she had sighed then, looking over at the Raquel of today, seeming just a little bit sad that she was no longer a little girl. Her eyes seemed to lose focus for a moment and Raquel's heart leapt, but her mother quickly recovered. “Your mama and tía would act out every scene for us, making up dances, singing the songs together on every car ride. I can recite every line by memory,” Maraví had laughed, cuddling Paula close to her side as the movie started. 

The only dark spots on the day, and some of the only dark spots on this new life they had built together since leaving Spain the first time, had been moments like these, when her mother would casually bring up her sister, Marta. It was still one of Raquel’s biggest regrets in choosing the life they lived now - leaving her sister. Not only leaving her, but leaving her with Alberto. And not only that, but taking away her only remaining living parent. Marta had done little to help take care of their mother as she had gotten on in years, but still. In her darker moments, Raquel wondered if she had, in effect, made an orphan out of her sister? But in her worst moments, Raquel felt like she was abandoning her little sister to a life of not only being without blood family, but also with her dreadful ex-husband, and she shuddered to think what that might be like for her. 

It hadn’t been fair, really. Not to anyone involved. Raquel had never brought it up alone in conversation with her mother, never asked her mother if she missed Marta, or Alberto, or Spain, too worried about what the answer might be. She hardly let herself think about it.

Raquel had waited until Paula was completely passed out and her mother snoring softly before creeping out to the kitchen and calling Sergio again on the encrypted line to say goodnight. She had hoped to get more of an idea of what he was doing and how long he would be away, but to no avail. Logically, she knew they both had to be very careful about anything they said, and they both enjoyed the coding and inside jokes they shared across the line. It added a certain element of intrigue that she knew they both thrived on. Raquel could hear the longing in his voice that probably matched her own, and felt in her heart that he wouldn’t have left if it hadn’t been terribly important. 

She offered up a prayer to anyone listening that he would stay safe and return home soon. He’d been the one missing piece in an otherwise perfect day.

The next two days passed in a similar fashion - each morning hoping the first call from Sergio would promise of his imminent return, or more clues about what he was doing, but to no end. He sounded optimistic, but remained cryptic, which she knew was mostly due to his safety concerns and the knowledge that they never knew who could be listening in to their conversations. She slowly got more used to his absence, but still felt herself turning to smile at the ghost of his face when Paula did something funny, or rolling over in bed, expecting the solidity of his warm chest to snuggle up to, but running into the nearly sideways form of Paula, stretched out next to her. Maraví usually was more comfortable sleeping in the normalcy of her own bed, but the few times she had napped or fallen asleep with Raquel and Paula in "the big bed," as they all called it, Raquel couldn't help but be secretly annoyed at the light snores of her aging mother, comparing them to the (usually) endearing sounds of Sergio's heavy breathing that sometimes occurred if they'd had a particularly 'involved' evening.

To pass the hours and keep her from worrying, she’d played up to the idea of a “girls holiday” every day, knowing they'd never be able to travel freely like they might have before Raquel had chosen this life for them by following Sergio. The ladies had had lots of fun, and even some productive time, too. She and Paula had been out on the stand up paddle board, they’d all spent lots of time in the kitchen making favorite dishes, and even had a photo shoot with props and had a fancy tea party. 

Her mother had received a sewing machine as a gift from Sergio a few months back. Despite all the many little things she seemed to forget from the last few years, she remembered how to sew and was a patient and very entertaining teacher, often losing herself in the quiet, predictable rhythm of sewing something in a way that somehow brought older stories to the surface. She talked about Raquel and her sister as children, about the first years she was married before the children, about growing up in a small town outside Madrid and taking weekend trips to the beach with her family, how she had always wanted to live by the sea. Maraví talked about university, challenging her professors and her family with progressive ideas, tried to describe the outfits she wore and the books she read, and when Paula had drifted off in an evening nap while they were drinking sangria at sunset, Raquel laughed quietly as her mother recounted her many love affairs. It was lovely to be around her mother when she was lucid, when she was dreamy, when she could remember to remember. Raquel made a mental note to record her somehow on video, or at least on paper. The ache of losing her father was always a thought away and she wished every day she’d done more to record his part in her life while it had been as vivid as her mother’s somewhat scandalous stories were being told.

Inspired to chase feminine pursuits in Sergio’s absence, Raquel and Paula had gotten some lessons from abuela in sewing basic items, and had each created a pillowcase and hemmed a few dresses. Always happy with a new craft, Paula and her grandmother had spent several hours conspiring, and then huddled over the needle and thread, hard at work on something Raquel was under strict instructions not to peek at and was always violently shooed out of Maraví’s room whenever she dared to enter to check up on them. (“Just leave the cookies by the door, Mama! No one else allowed in!” Paula had cried out.) 

And suddenly, Raquel was faced with a few hours completely on her own, for the first time in _years_.

At first, she thought about a workout. She and Sergio often did meditation or yoga together, they'd set up a punching bag outside that they both took turns at. She loved to run barefoot along the tides, and even more to hike in the jungled hills on the island, but then she decided against it. She wanted to stay close to the house in case the girls needed her, or Sergio returned unexpectedly. Then Raquel thought about cooking, but that didn't sound good either. Feeling like Goldilocks, wandering through a house (even though it was her own) and wondering where she might belong, she tried napping, just relaxing, something that a long career in the police force hadn't allowed her to do. But without Sergio beside her, the bed felt too cool, too wide, almost empty. She couldn’t get comfortable, because her thoughts kept straying to him, wondering what he was up to that was keeping him away. If she managed to stop wondering about that, each glance around their bedroom just reminded her of Sergio, of them together, of the thousand moments and memories they had created in this space.

She had to get out and get moving and do something that _mattered_.

With a current of energy coursing through her body, she pulled together some food in the kitchen and walked over to his makeshift school house, casting the bright light of day through the crooked wooden slat doorway onto a dozen local children hunched over computers inside. They had blinked slowly at her intrusion and then smiled widely, but not falsely, at her and her gift of food.

"Hey, everyone. I don't mean to interrupt, but I was just doing some cooking, and thought maybe all your hard work was making you hungry, so . . . "

That had been all it took for one to say before they were all climbing on top of each other to reach the promised land of snacks. "Señora, what smells so good?" "Thank you so much!" "You're the best Professora ever!" 

"Professora?!" Raquel had blinked in surprise at the anointing, smiling all the same as she started handing out napkins.

"Well, because you are married to the Professor, right?"

"Ah, well," she had begun to explain that she and Sergio weren't technically married, but then decided against it. "Actually, I don't teach. But you may call me . . . "

"La jefe?" someone cheekily offered from the back. The rest of the children giggled. "I mean, it just seems like you're pretty much in charge of most things around here, so . . ."

Raquel bit back a laugh. "La Jefe sounds good to me."

They had gathered round the offering of sliced bananas and mangos and ice-cold sodas with glee, Raquel inquiring after their families and laughing as they teased each other about various things. As the children snacked, they asked her if she knew when the Professor would return with such innocence and honesty that she knew they weren’t part of any conspiracy.

Raquel spent an extra few minutes checking in with one of the “pupils” who she had truly taken a shine to, and had proved herself a valuable asset. But even though this little bird had been able to accomplish a secret task for Raquel, she also had no idea why the Professor had left.

So as clueless as she had arrived, Raquel appeased the crowd by saying he would come back soon, and left with empty plates but a full and proud heart. Her sweet Sergio was doing so much good there, she knew it. She loved him all the more for it.

Raquel went back to the house and walked through the rooms . . . looking for anything that needed studying or tidying or rearranging, but found nothing pressing. Then she realized she was humming to herself, just a memory of a song. A brief redirect of her steps led her to the worn guitar in Sergio’s studio - she resisted the urge to run her hands over his chair and desk and see if he’d left any clues about his leave-taking, or purpose, or possible return. Sometimes the trained inspector in her was hard to quell, but she meant it every time she said she trusted Sergio whole-heartedly. He had proved himself worthy of it, over and over. 

Instead, she grabbed the guitar, a notebook and a pen, and wandered out to the hammock to put all her energy, her emotion, her thoughts to words.

On the third night, after they’d hung up the phone, Raquel got up from the living room sofa where she’d walked to talk on the phone with Sergio without disturbing the other occupants of their bed. She found herself wandering aimlessly around their house, barefoot and smiling to herself as she thought of their brief phone conversation. She smiled whenever something caught her eye and reminded her of him, which was nearly everything. Even in the short time they’d been in this house, less than a year, they had filled it with memories as a family. 

There was the chess set up on a table that was for Sergio and Paula to practice, a game still waiting in limbo for his return. The basket near the door that led to the beach of hypoallergenic sunscreen that also didn’t damage coral reefs that they ordered special, placed in with towels he had to have rolled tightly in a particular way. His dark blue coffee mug hanging on its hook next to her orange one, suspended above the kitchen counter. 

Raquel opened the fridge absent-mindedly and perused its contents, wondering if he might bring anything special back from his trip for Paula and Maravi, as he usually did. He was forever finding a new fruit or a special something from overseas they had never seen before so they could all discover it together, as a family. And Sergio always made sure to bring back a few bags of different flavoured chips from each trip - they all delighted in making strange combinations like chicharron and lemon, seaweed, picante, and even a cake flavour.

She poured herself a glass of water and then leaned up against the counter to look over their kitchen in the relative darkness. It was coming up on a full moon outside, reflecting light off the ocean waves that were just a few seconds’ walk from their door, and the light bounced up to their outside seating area with its couches, rocking seats, hammocks, the fireplace they sometimes lit at night just to have a fire, never actually needing the heat for warmth. Raquel remembered teaching both Sergio and Paula the art of s’more making over that fire one night, all three of them sticky and sugared and delighted by the end of it. The memory made her smile - Sergio had admitted to the both of them that he had never roasted marshmallows or been camping. Paula had been shocked at the idea, having been camping many times in her short life, and even once to a two-day sleep-away camp. But after they'd chatted, remembering Sergio's hospital upbringing, Paula had climbed into his lap, her arms around his neck and had whispered 'information' about the many 'important' things about camping she could remember, so that he would know how it all worked. He'd listened dutifully, commenting, questioning, reaching an agreement of sorts at one point, until he had escorted Paula to bed.

Later, after his return and another s'more or two, Sergio had sidled up to Raquel and very meaningfully whispered that even before Paula had told him, he had once heard from her about all kinds of new experiences can happen inside of a tent. 

Raquel smiled again to herself, a hand against her neck as she remembered . . . 

_That night, in the darkest hours, just before sunrise, she had woken him up with soft kisses against his cheeks, his neck, his collarbone, hands slipping over and under his shirt and the linen pants he wore to bed. She slowly rolled on top of him, sliding a leg between his and undulating over his body just as slowly, still kissing him until he was fully awake._

_“Raquel?” he had managed to ask hoarsely, unsure if it was a dream or reality._

_She had smiled down at him before rising up out of bed and beckoning him to follow her. He had stared at her dumbly for a moment before standing to follow. He would go wherever she was going after being woken up like that._

_They had walked hand and hand, as he was still stumbling in sleepiness, down to the beach, where she had laid out a blanket in an area mostly hidden from view of the house, but still in the sand, close to the ocean waves, under the stars. One tiny lantern cast a surprising amount of light, now that his eyes were adjusting to the darkness. But the moon lit up the night very well on its own._

_“What are we doing out here - “ he had started to ask, but she had only looked at him with a slight smirk and an eyebrow raised, lowering herself to the blanket while moving her hands to lift her light blue pajama top up and off over her head. She looked at him again and then propped herself up on her elbows on the blanket, eyebrow still arched as if to say “isn’t it obvious?”_

_Raquel initiated anything adventurous outside the bedroom for them - and to be honest, most of their action inside, as well. It thrilled her when Sergio surprised her with his own desires and requests or moods that struck him suddenly, but she had never minded taking the reins in this part of their relationship. He turned her on in ways no man ever had, and empowered her femininity and sexuality, lighting up the dark corners of her mind and spirit that had died a little under the power of Alberto for so many years._

_She claimed her sexuality back for herself, but also reveled in the way that Sergio had unlocked long-dormant needs, desires, fantasies within her, all because of how clearly and openly he always seemed to want her, body and soul. They connected on a physical level more than any person she had ever been with, and that always ignited a passion deep within her._

_He had pulled his shirt off and situated himself on top of her, gently, with the grace he easily possessed whenever it was just the two of them. He smiled, still perhaps not understanding all of the game, but happy to play, enjoying the foreplay, as he always did. They both smiled and sighed at the belly to belly, chest to chest contact as he molded to her small frame. His hand palmed her cheek as he gazed over the dark heat emanating from her eyes, her parted lips panting in desire, the unique crooks in her teeth he adored. Sergio shifted his hips against her and bit back a groan as she shimmied against him. He kissed her lips softly, once, again and again, hands beginning to roam as they built the kiss from a spark to a flame to an inferno, lower bodies writhing against each other and asking for freedom from their clothing and more contact but both Sergio and Raquel were too reluctant to pull away from their kiss, and their fingers were buried deep in each other’s hair and then moving to breast to back to face, hers drawing down his spine, too busy to manage the removal of clothing._

_Sergio had grabbed at her sides and moved as if to roll them over so that she was on top, in control, guiding things as she normally did, and which seemed to make sense, seeing as she had brought him out here. But she shook her head and positioned her elbows and legs down as if to anchor herself more firmly to the ground. “No, mi amor, I want you to take me like this, outside, under these stars.”_

_“Oh? Really?” he had exhaled softly in question, then pulled his head back to look her in the eyes. He looked confused, as if he was afraid that he didn’t understand, that he might disappoint her. Her fingernails dragged against his scalp as she’d dragged him to her mouth for a deep, naughty kiss to clue him in to the direction she wanted their night to go, with his lead, of course. She bucked her hips up meaningfully, sighed into his touch and he pressed his body down to hers, instinctively._

_He paused then for just a moment, processing her request, then took a deep breath and his shoulders squared back minutely, resolutely, and she felt a low hum in his chest and a shift in his demeanor. She gasped suddenly as his right hand began traveling down her side to trail a finger against her breast, her nipple puckering with the attention before he moved again, tickling down her ribcage, cupping her hipbone as he shifted more to the side to give her some freedom of movement._

_“Take these off, Raquel,” he demanded in a low voice, and she quickly removed the little shorts that matched the light blue top she had been wearing, almost giddy at this change in his tone, the way he was taking charge._

_The way his hardness slotted up against where she needed him most had her rolling against the ground as they rubbed against each other, the friction building, slick and inviting, “Sergio, Sergio,” she panted, tilting her hips up to meet his, anxious for him to keep directing the play of the game._

_Suddenly, he had grasped both of her hands and held them above her, slid himself home inside her, and was rocking into her with a building speed as he panted next to her ear. His tongue slid out and traced her earlobe, bit gently, he whispered her name over and over again like it was the only word he knew. There was the sound of her name on his lips, the hot wetness of his tongue now outlining her ear, the veins pulsing in her neck against his open mouth kisses, the friction he was grinding against her clit had her there before he reached down a clever hand to guide her over the edge. He waited, paused, groaning, watching her buck up and chase her release before he quickly followed after, riding the waves with her._

_He collapsed to the side of her, catching his breath, reaching a hand out blindly to connect with any part of her body. She grasped it and rolled into him, suddenly feeling the chill of their commingled sweat drying against the winds coming off the ocean, easily whipping around them in her makeshift tent._

_“Much better,” she teased, curling into his side, tucking arms and legs about._

_“Mm?” was all he could manage back, his hand scratched lightly at his chest as he tried to peer down at her. "Better?"_

_“This completely replaces my ‘first time’ in a tent,” she explained, propping herself up on an elbow to look at him. “Our first time in a tent. It was time for something different, no? Exceeded all my expectations.” Raquel leaned down to press her lips again his sparsely haired chest lightly a few times. “Thank you for sharing it with me, my love,” she whispered, raising up to look him in the eyes. “That was fucking fun, ” she had concluded, before tucking her head up under his neck. “But we’ve got to be back in bed in about two hours,” she yawned, “before the house wakes up. And we should shower before anyone catches us. You’re in charge of that part.”_

_Sergio’s chest had rumbled beneath her already nearly asleep form. “Yes, my love.”_

* * * *

“Wow, she’s really asleep! She didn’t even hear me get the chocolate milk out!”

“Shhh Paula, your mama needs her rest right now.”

“Why? Did something happen?”

“No, no no no, my love. You just know how she worries when our Sergio is gone.”

“I know. Why did he go so soon around her birthday? Birthdays are so special! Do you think - “

“Shh!!! I see her moving a bit. Remind your dear abuela - I know we’re celebrating all week, but when is your mama’s birthday exactly?”

Raquel had finally heard enough and pretended to be asleep long enough to open one lazy eye and gaze upon the age-old conspiracy of granddaughter and grandmother, nestled close against each other at the island, munching on bananas and yoghurt and granola and pouring in something that looked suspiciously like chocolate chips while their helper looked on fondly. 

Raquel rose quietly, circled her head slowly, rolling her shoulders, and sat fully up on the couch to stretch her arms above her head with languid purpose. She didn’t remember choosing to fall asleep here on the couch last night, but reasoned she must have dozed off in her musings over Sergio and the life they had forged here. Besides, their actual bed had been a bit too crowded for her to find any true rest there. 

“Mama! You’re awake!” Paula cried, running over to wrap her arms around Raquel’s neck. “Why did you sleep out here? Did we snore like Papa?” Paula asked innocently. 

For a moment, Raquel’s heart and indeed all her emotions froze. For years, during the abuse, Raquel or Alberto had slept on the couch to get away from each other, and had always explained it away to Paula that “your father snores, so Mama slept somewhere else!” so that she wouldn't ask too many questions or unintentionally spread any rumours that might get back to the headmaster of the school or the police force. 

But then she remembered the few nights, on the very few occasions that Sergio had let himself unwind just a bit, and drank more than two glasses of the homebrews that the locals would often offer to them. And sometimes the sound effects of these gracious gifts meant she had to sleep in a separate space in order to get any shut-eye at all.

“No, I just - it was a bit crowded with your legs and abuela’s arms and legs-” she reached her fingers out to tickle at Paula’s sides, trying to subtly stretch her muscles at the same time.

Paula giggled and ducked away from her advances. 

“Well, just you and Sergio again tonight! So you will be okay, I guess,” her mother’s voice called from the kitchen island, interrupting their playtime.

Raquel started, sitting up a bit straighter in her daughter’s arms, trying to be ready to correct her mother, to be ready to explain Sergio’s continued absence in a vague way that wouldn’t raise any attention.

“Mama, no, remember, Sergio is gone on a trip, I’m not sure when he - “ but then she heard it, too. The chug of a boat nearing their dock. She recognized the motor, and looking towards the outline, she thought she could just make out his silhouette standing towards the bow. She spared a brief thought for her unbrushed teeth and hair that must be wavy and tangled in a million ways and that he hadn’t texted her any warning, and it was still quite early in the morning, so he must have been sailing all night and be so tired, but she pushed it all aside, turned and swooped up a giggling Paula into her arms, letting her daughter scramble around the top half of her body like the tiny monkey they often teased she was like. Her heart pounding, Raquel took off for the dock, squinting towards the horizon and the rising sun.

Paula was getting too big to be carried for long, so Raquel set her down and they ran hand in hand. As their bare feet jogged over the sand on the beach and then onto the worn wooden slats of the dock, warming in the sun, Raquel kept looking out to try and connect with Sergio’s face, backlit by the sun and making it impossible for her to read his expression. She was still a bit hurt and still very confused about the nature of his leaving, but was choosing to not worry unless something in his face told her otherwise. 

The waves splashed against the docks as the driver of the boat slowed and neared closer, and Raquel could see Sergio’s body tense just a bit, and she wondered for a moment if he might jump in and swim over. 

“Sergioooo! Papaaaa! You’re baaaack!” Paula yelled out, waving her arms over her head as if she were needed to guide them in against the rubber tires slashed against the dock. Her tiny body jumped up and down as she giggled with happiness. Raquel shielded her eyes with a hand on her forehead, trying to feel for the deep connection they always had to guide her own reaction. But the sun was too bright, and she couldn't see anything clearly, until he leaned against the railing and waved at them, slightly awkwardly, calling out “Good morning, girls!” with uncharacteristic volume that made Raquel giggle as the boat came closer and she could make out his slightly embarrassed smile. 

Juan Carlos, one of the men who worked on the island for them, was driving the boat and yelled at Sergio to throw out the rope, which he had apparently forgotten he was holding onto with one hand. Sergio startled for a moment before flinging it towards the dock, and Raquel leaned out to catch it and guide them in. He was finally close enough to make just brief eye contact, but everything in that heated gaze, even in just a moment, told her what she needed to know. “Oh, my Raquel,” he said in a voice so low she barely heard it, but his lips rounding over her name and then into a slow smile, his eyes quickly moving over her face, and she could feel her body flushing all over. Sergio smiled quickly at Paula, but then look back directly at her and she felt the full force of his earnest eyes staring into hers. 

She shook her head and reminded herself to breathe, to tie in the boat, that they had to unload everything, they had to talk about why he had been gone and the nature of his leaving. She squared her shoulders and got to work. “Everything okay?” she asked, looping the rope around the wooden post and turning to face him but then she gasped in surprise, suddenly right in his arms as he had jumped on the dock right next to her.

“I’m sorry, and I missed you, and I’m sorry,” he whispered urgently, his hands on her back and in her hair, drawing her closer, pressing his lips to her hair and she felt his whole body take her in and she was lost. As lost as she knew she might be, even with several days pent up of confusion and anger but oh - it could wait for a moment. She sighed into him, burrowing her nose into his neck and drinking in the warm, earthy smell of him. They rocked in each other's arms for a moment.

“Okay. It’s okay, Sergio. I want to talk - “

“Of course, I have so much to tell you, to apologize for, but it really felt so important - “

“Sergio,” she cut him off, leaning back to look up at him. “I trust you, mm? Tell me later. I’m just so glad you’re back.” She tilted her head up and he met her lips for a sweet kiss, and she lost herself in it for a moment until the cries of their daughter could no longer be ignored.

“Papa!! Did you really bring us chickens?! They’re so cute!” Paula giggled from inside the boat, where she had clambered over the sides and was exploring the new purchases Sergio had brought home. 

Raquel pulled back, keeping her arms around his waist, and looked from Paula back up at him curiously. “Chickens?” she queried.

He took a deep breath, shrugged and looked up nervously in that way she always found so adorable. “Well, they bring good luck, right?” 

She laughed sharply before nuzzling into his chest again, watching Paula step over the many bags that littered the floor of the boat, 'helpfully' directing Juan Carlos on how to unload them. “Well, the last time I was around chickens, I remember someone saying the same thing, but not that it brought me much luck then.” Raquel felt her own expression somber at her memory, and looked up at Sergio for explanation.

“I see it differently, or I want to see something differently now, together,” Sergio said quietly. He took a deep breath. “But if it’s okay with you, I want to get everything in the house, and have a proper shower, and be able to sit down and then explain - “

“Ooohhh . . . is this a . . . a tent? A proper tent?!” Paula called out again. “So we _are_ we going camping?!” she looked over in their direction but luckily was then quickly distracted. 

“And why do we need a tent, Sergio?” Raquel sighed as she asked, teasing in her voice.

“Umm…” Sergio started, his eyes darting around. “Well, I had thought the boat would get here earlier, that you would be asleep, but there were some complications, so . . . I didn’t . . . Raquel, please. I had a plan to set things up and . . . “ he shook his head and then ticked at the bridge of his glasses, sighing. “Can we perhaps just help unload everything, and then we can get cleaned up -” Raquel laughed at his repeated reference, knowing he hated going without a good shower for very long, and had spent a large amount of money installing a beautiful rainfall shower in their master bathroom. “ - and then we can talk about the packages, including - “ his tone shifted, his voice dropping, “including one that was at the drop off point that was addressed to our contact, but I know for a fact I did not order. Did you have something to do with that, Raquel?” He smiled down at her, an eyebrow raised, clearly impressed that she had managed to surprise him. 

She bit at her lip and brought her hands down to clasp at his and knock them together a bit coquettishly. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. But it can be unloaded to my mother’s bedroom for safe-keeping.”

“I see. Speaking of, where is your dear -”

“Sergio!” his words were cut off by Maraví wandering down to the pier with a cup in her hands. “Your coffee, my darling. I’m sure you need it. Did you sail all night?” she asked, pressing a kiss to Sergio’s cheek and ruffling his hair. “You look like you want a nice shower.” Sergio grinned at her and Raquel’s heart warmed at the sight. 

“I did, Maraví. Pretty much, at least. We left at 3am, I think? We meant to get here sooner but the waves were pretty rough. But seeing my girls makes it worth the early alarm.” He grinned back down at Raquel and then glanced at Paula, still jumping around the boat and being “helpful.”

“Yes, well, your girls missed you right back. This one in particular. Raquel gets so mopey when you’re gone. Wanders around all day looking lost.”

“Mama!” Raquel attempted to interrupt, feeling just a little embarrassed, but Sergio looked a bit pleased.

“Is that so, Raquel?” he said as quietly as he could, tugging on her hands.

Raquel rolled her eyes a little but smiled just the same. “Let’s unload the boat then and get you settled. Then we can . . . talk.”

“Ah, yes, _talk_. That’s what you’ll be up to behind closed doors. I’ll keep Paula busy, don’t worry,” Maraví commented, her voice full of knowing.

“MAMA!” Raquel whipped her head around, eyes wide to see if Paula were overhearing anything.

“- and I applaud you for it! Life is meant to be lived, my lovebirds!” Maraví came to stand between them and placed her hands on their shoulders, smiling as she looked back and forth at their faces, both of them with expressions battling between embarrassed and amused. “Right!” she clapped her hands and then turned her attention towards the boat, where Paula was still skipping around the hull from box to box and trying to read the contents. “What goodies have you brought me this time, my favorite son-in-law? Did you get that fabric I asked about? Any new buttons or elastics like I asked for? I’m quite busy repairing things around this small village we call home, you know.”

They watched after Maraví until she wandered closer to the boat before turning to each other. Raquel had long ago stopped agonizing over the very forward way her mother spoke, but it still could bring a slight blush to both of their cheeks. She smiled somewhat apologetically up at Sergio’s dark brown eyes that were looking down at her with a gentle smile as well. He leaned his forehead down to touch against hers, eyes closed, and they both breathed each other in slowly. Sergio brought their clasped hands up to his lips and kissed against her knuckles before pulling back. 

“Shall we, my love?” he asked, inclining his head toward the boat, and they both turned in time to see Paula and Maraví crack up at something Paula had said. Happily, heart full for the moment even as she still wondered about all that they had to still talk about, all that she wondered about his trip and business away. Sergio was always the one with mystery and behind all the plans in their relationship, but she also had a few surprises for him to find out about now. And the way their hands fit so easily, the way she felt warmer and lighter and right again for the first time since she’d woken up a few days ago to discover him gone, reminded her that it was okay to just do what felt good and what felt right in the moment. Her birthday was tomorrow, but she knew her life lately was full of gifts.

She answered him with a kiss to his cheek and they walked forward together.


	9. blood bank

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: miscarriage, domestic abuse
> 
> Some very important conversation flashbacks, and we finally find out why Sergio took off . . . 
> 
> listen to "blood bank" by bon iver on repeat for the appropriate mood.

After unloading the assorted boxes, not being allowed to look at too many of them, but loving that Sergio had indeed picked up some fabrics and sewing supplies for her mother, and seeing Paula enthralled with the idea of raising chickens, Raquel guided him back towards their bedroom, stealing kisses and holding hands and heading straight for their bathroom to turn on the shower so it was hot and steamy for him. Sergio leaned up against the counter, watching her with a small smile as she dialed up the water and picked out fluffy towels to have ready. 

“Do I count two towels, Raquel?” he murmured. 

“Yes, one for your body and one for all this long hair and that shaggy beard. You should have gotten it cut while you were in town,” she teased, reaching out a hand to slip her fingers through his beard. He grabbed it and pulled her in close against his chest to kiss her nose. 

“Ah, but I thought you liked my beard. In fact, my memory recalls severals times I was explicitly told how much you like feeling it between - “

“Be that as it may,” Raquel interrupted. “All this hair, Sergio! You must be so hot under all this hair. You look like a hippie,” she grinned at him, running a hand through what were becoming rather long locks. 

“No one would ever accuse me of being ‘hip,’ I’m sure. And I’m not sure you mean that as a compliment, but I don’t mind being aligned with the hippie movement. Their non-conformist, anti-authority principles are quite appealing. Their sense of community, of sharing, particularly one phrase, ‘make love, not war,’ I find very compelling, especially at this moment.”

“Ah, so are we at war, then?” she teased.

“Won’t you come in with me? We can sort out any misunderstandings, work out a truce, if needed. Or just the details of my full surrender to you,” he whispered, his lips moving across her cheek and trailing down her jaw line. 

“Oh,” she sighed, “I guess if you ask nicely.” But her words contradicted her actions, and she felt him smile against her neck as her fingers moved to start unbuttoning his shirt and push it off his shoulders. He reached for the hem of her shirt to pull it up and over her head and they paused to lock eyes with each other. 

“I hated being away from you,” he said, tracing one hand up her arm, over her shoulder and down again to twine his fingers with hers. 

Raquel pulled back and looked at him for a beat. “Then why did you leave? And so suddenly? There was no explanation, Sergio. I had thought after everything - “

“Raquel - Raquel, please,” he shook his head and closed his eyes against her words. “I know I did that badly.” He took a deep breath before continuing. “I know I am still learning how to really be in a relationship, be your partner and do it well. I can see that was foolish of me, and I will explain everything. There is no emergency, but some things I need to tell you about, and then we will make a plan, if we want to. That’s it. Please, trust me?” 

She looked up at him for a long moment, cocking her head to the side and taking all of his expression and body language in, searching him with her eyes. Sergio felt himself grow a little nervous under her gaze, the _inspectora_ gaze that came out every once in a while when she was calculating what he said, what he meant, how safe she felt with his answers. He cupped her shoulder blades and tugged her towards him. She resisted for a beat and then, seeming to come to a conclusion within herself, let him pull her body full against hers. He kissed the top of her head. 

“The water is nice and warm now, shall we get in? Clean off my wandering sailor who’s come back home to me?” she whispered against his chest, her fingers running lightly over his hair there. Sergio shivered a little at her touch and acceptance before releasing his hold on her so they could shimmy out of their respective bottoms and step into the steaming shower together. She reached up and removed his glasses gently and set them on the counter just before grabbing his hand to step into the beautifully tiled and double-headed shower Sergio had taken months to renovate. 

Despite the questions and the layers of different kinds of tension between them, the shower was mostly silent and chaste - a time for caresses and gentle cleansing of the body and the spirit, sweet kisses, leaning into each other’s touch, but never escalating to a more heated point of intimacy. Raquel fought everything in her that wanted swift answers and told her inner voice to be patient, that Sergio was a man who needed time to process, to present information. He had promised there was no immediate threat, no danger, no emergency. She was left to wonder what in the world it had been, then, that had taken him away for five days. But she was confident he would reveal it all to her soon. Gone were the days where he kept back any secrets, any part of any plan, thinking it would somehow help or protect her in the long run.

Raquel shampooed and conditioned his hair, taking in his soft groans as she caressed his scalp, her fingernails scratching against his head in just the way she knew he liked. She lathered up the soap and washed him from head to toe, massaging into his skin, rinsing away the grime of a few days away from home and the last six or seven hours on a rocky boat at sea, trying to convey how much she loved him into every slight pressure of her fingertips against his skin. Raquel noticed him growing semi-hard under the effect of her ministrations as she lathered up and down his legs, his stomach, his chest, but he never once tried to change the direction or the mood to take it further, to advance the direction of their touches, even though she knew he was probably aching to feel more intimate with her as she was with him even after just a few days of separation, so strong was their sexual chemistry. 

Sergio took the soap from her and lathered up his hands, staring at her body with heat in his eyes, but a tenderness, too. Even though her body didn’t need the same thorough treatment, as she’d been at home with their amazing shower, he still lavished attention on every inch of her skin, touching and caressing her with loving intention. He got on his knees on the tiles in front of her small frame, his head level with her stomach, and washed her legs quietly, slowly, between over and around, her stomach, his hand resting quietly there as it sometimes did, remembering, before he pulled her closer to wrap his arms around her tiny middle, his cheek resting against her stomach, pressing a kiss against it, as he sometimes did, remembering. 

As it always did, Raquel’s hand moved and cupped the back of his head, holding him against her, against the place that had, for a few precious months, grown their child. As they always did whenever he did this, her eyes filled with quiet tears in the shared remembering and pain of the child they had loved and lost before he or she was ever a part of this world. Another casualty of the heists, of the stress of being internationally wanted fugitives, of being older parents, neither of them knew the exact reason. But it always struck Raquel how deeply Sergio had felt the loss of this unborn child, in comparison to Alberto and the two miscarriages she had experienced in their marriage before the success of carrying Paula to term. Whereas Alberto had grown distant and cold with each failed pregnancy, leaving Raquel to tend to her grief on her own, Sergio had been beside her for every moment during and after her miscarriage, somehow knowing what to say or when to say nothing at all, and had been just as upset as she had been over the loss of their child right after the end of the second heist. Neither of them had known she was pregnant when the heist had started, both of them attributing her late period to the stress of the planning and living in tight quarters with la banda that had been slow to trust her at the start (of course, Sergio had noticed she was late, even before she did, and been more concerned than she had been). She had never even considered pregnancy at 42 an option, as conceiving Paula had been difficult enough when she had been many years younger. 

Unbidden, a flashback came to her of the terrible fight they’d had when she’d found out that Sergio had agreed to be the sperm donor for Nairobi. It had been something casual he’d said, a slip of the tongue, which had led to a halting confession from him about the chain of events that had spiralled out of control into one of the biggest fights they’d ever been in.

_“What the fuck, Sergio? How could you ever possibly agree to such a thing without talking to me? Did you not consider, for one fucking second, what this would mean to me?” she had pitched lowly at him, shaking with anger and rage and fear and embarrassment. “For fuck’s sake - I had partied with them that night, dancing, celebrating, toasting to this ‘friend with benefits’ that was going to give Nairobi her child. They must have been pissing themselves, laughing at me,” she had choked on her words, throat tight and body flushing with latent embarrassment and anger. The tears had started then. “So we aren’t enough, are we? Me, my mother, Paula? We left everything, everyone we’d ever known, and moved across the world to be with you. And all those times I asked you, and you had lied. You had wanted a child of your own.”_

_“No, Raquel, it wasn’t - “_

_“How could you? How could you betray my trust, our family like that? So easily? For a girl, Sergio? Because Nairobi was still a girl, still growing up, still learning. She was not responsible. She used her child as a drug mule, for fuck’s sake. Was this even a safe or healthy idea? You’d want your child being raised by - oh, I can’t even think it!”_

_“That’s not fair, Raquel. You know she has changed - had changed. You loved Nairobi. Are you telling me her past mistakes should mean she didn’t deserve a child to love? A family of her own?”_

_“No, no, that’s not what -” Raquel wiped the tears from her cheeks violently. “Of course, I loved Nairobi, all of them, I want them to be happy.”_

_Raquel had paced around the room then, breathing deeply as the tears continued streaming from her face, arms shaking out to the side, her emotions and thoughts running wild._

_“Was it because she was younger than me, then? Prettier? Better genes? Did she know you were sick as a child? Did she know about Andres? Did you ever think about that when you answered her so quickly? Was it an attempt to balance out the questions in your bloodline and continue your namesake? Our family isn’t good enough?”_

_“You know that’s not true, Raquel,” he had whispered, in pain, almost imperceptibly._

_“I know your mind would have calculated all the risks of us having a child together. Did we just not add up?” she questioned him, pressing up into his space, her weight shifting from foot to foot in earnest like a boxer waiting for a match._

_“No, Raquel, I - “_

_“I know she’s a beautiful girl, Sergio, did something start in the first heist? Something you neglected to tell me? Fuck - is this something else you’ve been hiding from me?” she breathed in deeply, pausing and trying to steady herself. “I thought we had - I trusted you - trusted what we had - “ she tried to say, but her breath was in deep gulps and she felt like she couldn't get enough into her lungs, stars were clouding her vision and her knees weakened._ _“And you’re only telling me because - because,” she inhaled deeply. “You slipped. You were never going to tell me.” She sat down heavily on the sofa, hands on her knees, trying to regain her composure._

_“Raquel,” he pleaded, kneeling in front of her. He reached a hand to hold hers but she swatted him away. “Please, I beg you. You know I'm not - I agreed to it in the moment, she was so convincing, the entire heist felt like it was on the line, and I persuaded myself that when it was over, something could be arranged that wasn’t so . . . personal. I felt like if I denied her the request, she would be compromised for the entire event, and I couldn't afford that. We couldn’t afford that! Rio’s life was on the line. I would have agreed to almost anything to keep everyone’s head on straight, to give them something to live for and keep their allegiance in line with the project.”_

_“In line with you,” Raquel had interjected._

_“Yes. It’s my team, isn't it? I’m responsible for morale. The objectives. The fallout if things go wrong.”_

_“Answer me this,” Raquel had asked. “When she first asked you to be the sperm donor, what did you think? What was your initial reaction?”_

_Sergio had blanched at the question. “What do you mean?”_

_“Just answer the fucking question. When she first asked you, what did you think? What was the first reaction or emotion you had?”_

_He had paused to consider the question. “I think . . . I think I was flattered, then confused.”_

_Raquel had waited then, waited for him to explain, but had watched him retreat just further inside himself and so she had to ask. “Sergio - what does that mean? Flattered and confused? Explain this to me.”_

_He had startled, looked into the distance to find and center an explanation to his feelings. When he finally found it, and could give voice to it, he tried to explain. “Flattered that anyone would want to have a child by me, when there is nothing desirable about this kind of personality or body or habits or anything, and then confused that Nairobi, of all people would want that.”_

_She didn’t allow it to show, but his genuine answer had softened her just a little bit. “What do you mean, confused that Nairobi would ask you?”_

_He had shrugged. “Well, Nairobi is - was - beautiful, clever, funny . . . I’m certain she could have had her pick of partners, unattached partners.” He looked to her then, but she wouldn’t give him more than a glance back to confirm that they were indeed, still very much attached. “And both she and Tokyo had made . . . certain . . . advances towards me. During the first heist.”_

_“Oh?” asked Raquel, interested._

_“I turned them down, unequivocally, we didn’t sleep together, of course not, it would have violated the rules,” Sergio had stated, standing up, pushing his shoulders back, his hand slicing the air to drive home his point. “There were to be no first names, no relationships, nothing to - “_

_“Did you want them?” she had asked, looking up to watch him pace and interrupting his high moral ground._

_He shook his head violently against her question, staring off into the memories of the past. “No. I don’t even think they meant it. Tokyo just liked to watch me squirm. Nairobi was lonely, that’s all, I’m sure of it.”_

_“But they were keen . . . Why didn’t you sleep with them? You must have wanted to,” she had pressed on, unsure if she wanted to hear the answer._

_“No - NO! Raquel. No. I never could have - I never wanted to - “_

_“It’s okay, it’s okay if you did.” She stood up slowly and paced the floor, bargaining with herself. Sergio watched her warily. “It was before us, before we even met, I can’t possibly be upset about it if you did. I’m not jealous, it - it really doesn’t matter - I just - I just want to know.” She said this outloud to him, and tried to make herself believe it, knowing logically it was true, even if her heart beat strongly against the feelings the possibilities turned up._

_“Raquel - for God’s sake! I just said I didn’t sleep with them, and I meant it. I had the heist I had been planning meticulously for twenty years, you think I would be, could be, distracted by something as simple, as easy as sex? When I was in the middle of avenging my father, of pulling off the greatest bank robbery of all time? Come on, Raquel. All of my attention was devoted to the plan, the details, the execution. I couldn’t let myself be distracted by anything - “_

_The look she gives him then takes him right back to the house in Toledo. The questions, the polygraph, trying to explain how he felt about her and her inability to believe him. Except this time, she’s fighting the urge to roll her eyes. This is familiar ground for them. Because she did believe him - hours and hours of conversations with words and hands and lips and bodies had finally convinced her during the first whirlwind of their reunion in Palawan. But usually it was now a point of teasing. But Raquel was on a roll, her own emotions overtaking her arguments._

_She nods her head and rolls her shoulders a bit. “Ah, Professor. That’s right. No being distracted by something as simple as sex during the greatest heist of all time, right? No easy sex allowed, right?”_

_He stops and stands in front of her, and takes a deep breath as he looks at her dead on. “Raquel, I can’t keep up with all of this. I don’t know what you want me to say or explain and we have already had this argument a few times. I know you know that you were not a distraction, there was nothing easy about falling in love with you and also running the heist and knowing my decisions put the team at risk. The team lost lives because I lost control, I took a chance for the first time in my life, and I live with the guilt of that every day when I can feel the happiness and love and being alive for the first time in my life because I chose you. Do you want me to regret it? Do you want me to say I’m sorry? Tell me, I will be sorry for anything, but help me. Tell me what you need.”_

_Her heart had stopped and her eyes had filled with tears then. She knew how guilty he felt for Oslo and Berlin’s lives being lost in the heist, and always attributed their deaths to his actions and decisions, which were wound up in their relationship and instant chemistry and desire for each other. She couldn’t help but carry some of that guilt with her, too, even if it had brought her the love of her life. Raquel took a deep breath and moved to stand in front of him, feeling his confusion and anguish radiating off of him, knowing how much he struggled with direct conflict, how he internalized everything. Her hands reached for his cheeks and she felt his whole body relax just a bit as she brought his forehead down gently so she could press a kiss to it. His hands came up tentatively to her hips as he leaned into her touch._

_“Okay, my love, okay. I’m sorry, let’s slow down,” she crooned, tucking her head under his chin and reaching her arms around his waist. She felt him breathe deeply in time with her and they leaned into each other. Without looking at him, just feeling his strong chest and heart beating against her, it was somehow easier to collect her thoughts. She took a moment to think deeply and try to articulate what was actually upsetting her. “Sergio - I think I need to know that it is enough. That we - me, Paula, my mother - we are enough for you. That you won’t want to run away someday and start a family, have your own children with a woman who can give that to you. Because even though we didn’t mean to get pregnant, and I don’t know that it would have been a good idea, considering the lives we have to lead, that loss still shakes me and I am so sorry I can’t give that to you.”_

_“Oh, Raquel - “ he had started, but she shushed him to let her continue._

_“And it hurts to think that you said yes to Nairobi without consulting me. I don’t know what that means. And I hate that she asked you that without talking to me about it. I hate how small and insignificant that makes me feel. I put my life on the line for la banda, too.” A tear escaped her then, as she confessed those feelings out loud. “We danced and drank all together that night. I had finally felt really accepted by them, you know? So maybe this sounds stupid, but that feels like a small betrayal of womankind,” Raquel laughed bitterly. “It could have all happened so differently, I guess. And I also hate how upset I am about it when she’s dead and this isn’t even in the realm of possibility,” she pulled back to look at him, his eyes full of concern and growing understanding, “but that doesn’t change the feelings, does it?”_

_Sergio had shaken his head and sighed. “Before you, Raquel, I honestly think I just tried to will feelings away, because it’s so hard to understand them. But I’m trying.”_

_“I know you are, cariño.”_

_His small smile had earned one from her._

_“I . . . it breaks my heart that you would think you and Paula and Maravi are not enough. I never, ever dreamed of having a wife, a child, a mother in law -”_

_“Oooh, wife? Mother in law? Did we get married when I wasn’t paying attention?” Raquel had teased, trying to break a little of the tension._

_He had furrowed his brow at her. “Quiet, I’m trying to feel things for you.” But he’d kissed her nose. “You three are . . . more than I could have ever hoped for. I don’t want for anything else in this life, I promise you. I’m sorry for all the missed communication around Nairobi’s request but to be honest, I just thought of it as a transaction. I was wrapped up in the heist, I said what I needed to make her happy, I didn’t consider the ramifications of that decision, and I’m sorry. I should have immediately consulted you. Your feelings and opinions mean more to me than anything, Raquel.”_

_She smiled up at him, content with his answers, even if he hadn’t addressed one of the big concerns she had about the miscarriage and the impossibility of their having any more children together. She knew he was still growing in his communication skills with her, with being in touch with his feelings, articulating them. In many ways, they were both still building the foundations of their complicated relationship as they worked through their own personal traumas and histories and tried to write a new story together. She kissed him once, twice, and would have moved on, but he surprised her by pulling back._

_“And, um,” he struggled, clearing his throat and reaching a hand up to adjust his glasses. She noticed a tear forming in one eye as he continued. “Mi amor, I will miss our child every day, I ache for the loss of what could have been, I wonder what I could have done differently . . . “ voice had trailed off and Raquel had felt her own tears coming to echo his. She often wondered the same thing. “But,” he cleared his throat, “but there is nothing missing from my life. On the contrary. I didn’t know -” he cut off, overcome suddenly by his emotions, staring away at the distance and gathering himself before looking back at her. “I didn’t know what happiness was, until you. You and me and the girls, Raquel. It’s more than enough.”_

Raquel shifted back into the present, her hand in his hair, the warmth of the shower and the gentle puffs of air against her stomach where he still lay his head, holding her in his arms around her legs. “Come here, my love,” she whispered, bringing him back to stand in front of her, smiling at his sleepy, contented expression even with a growing hard-on, hair in his face, eyes slightly unfocused without his glasses. “All clean, let’s get out now,” she kissed his chest and they turned off the water to exit the shower, wrapping themselves in the oversized fluffy towels and slipping on their house slippers. Sergio reached to the shelf and grabbed another smaller towel and threw it over Raquel’s head, making her huff in pretend annoyance, before he rearranged it to start rubbing at her hair in an attempt to dry it. 

“You’ll tangle it, silly,” she laughed, swatting his hands away and taking it into her own.

“I’ve always heard it’s the thought that counts?” he countered, walking over towards their bed. “Don’t want you to catch a cold.”

“In this tropical climate? And with you to keep me warm?” she asked, leaning up against the doorframe to watch affectionately as he walked over to his side of the four-poster king-sized bed and flopped belly up unceremoniously onto their mattress, his towel opening just enough to make her catch her breath, even though she’d just seen it all in the shower. It had been just under a week, but a week without making love was like an eternity for them, and she felt her blood rush to her cheeks and other needy places. He looked over at her with sleepy desire and she wanted to give in, but she’d waited long enough for an explanation for his disappearance. Before anything more intimate happened between them, she needed to know why he had left. 

She walked over to her closet and quickly tossed the towel aside but grabbed a light linen dress to pull on over her body. She felt Sergio’s eyes on her and when she opened a dresser drawer and pulled out some underwear to wear, she heard him breathe in in acceptance. The time to talk was now. 

He got up quietly and walked over to his closet, rummaging around to find something to wear, and it didn’t escape Raquel’s notice that he chose to wear both pants and a shirt. Did that mean it was bad news? That he anticipated a long discussion? 

Sergio held out a hand to her and by silent mutual agreement, they ambled over to and out the door that led to the small porch off their master bedroom to sit on the sofa outside. They often had talks out here, with a view of both jungle and some of the beach, private for the two of them but not completely closed off. Raquel idly noted rings on the glass table from drinks they must have shared out here over a week ago, before Sergio had left, wondering how she’d missed them in her brief ‘cleaning the house’ phase during his absence. 

They sat on the couch, facing each other, and Raquel waited patiently for him to begin. 

“Well,” Sergio started, fiddling with his hands and pushing up on his glasses. “I owe you an explanation, and I shouldn’t have taken off like that. It wasn’t my intention to leave without talking to you, I swear, I truly just fell asleep and then had to leave early. Knowing our communication must be guarded and protected, I wasn’t able to reveal the reason for my quick departure over the cell phones.” He paused, looking up at her. “But we finally have cell phones,” he smiled shyly. She indulged him in a returned smile. He hurried to continue when he realized she wasn’t going to over-thank him for this, still waiting for an explanation. “As you know, I have our people tracking and tracing movement, any chatter on Interpol, any channel, really. Trying to stay ahead of any problems, any concerns. I have a special pager system set up for the codified responses from our defense team, ready to respond to certain triggers on the networks. And the night before I left, I received some intel that I had to go to the mainland to get the power and network strong enough to be able to follow up on it and get verification and more clarification and consider the implications before taking action, if any. Which we will decide together.”

Raquel felt her body tense up in anticipation of whatever he was about to say. “Is someone in trouble? Is it Tokyo again? Is Stockholm okay? Their baby?” 

“No, no no, Raquel, it’s - it’s not la banda.” He reached a hand over to her to soothe her expression of worry. “I haven’t explicitly told you this, but I assume you know I’ve also kept tabs on, um, your ex-husband.” He looked at her, gauging her response. She had to look away before responding.

“Alberto.” She shook her head at his name but was proud her voice didn’t tremble as she sat up straighter, bracing herself for the worst. “What’s he done now? Is my sister okay?”

“That’s just it. All these years, I’d wondered what I could do to orchestrate something to serve him the justice he deserved. But he’s done it himself. He’s been arrested. He can never hurt any of your family again. Alberto is in jail.”


	10. this feeling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sergio explains what had taken him to the mainland, and Raquel has decisions to make.

Sergio would like to think that he knows Raquel better than anyone in the world, and she has assured him many times that no one has ever known her better, loved her better, met her needs better than he. But there are many moments in their relationship that he is simply not sure how to say something, unsure exactly how she will react, and feels woefully inept to be in a relationship with such a remarkable woman. 

This particular moment, telling her that her ex-husband is now behind bars and can never reach her or their daughter Paula again, he calculates to be in the top three most uncertain moments of his life, let alone their relationship. Especially because he has yet to explain just how her sister was involved.

He had known, through his research for the heist, that Raquel Murillo, lead inspector and negotiator for hostage situations, had a history of conflict with her ex-husband. He knew about the custody battles, had read about a restraining order, understood it was filed under cause of domestic violence, but it hadn’t been until that meeting in the Hanoi cafe where she had had to return his cell phone and had somehow laughed and cried her way through a confession of what a terrible fucking time she was having with extremely personal matters, while also under the job stress of a lifetime dealing with the heist he had spent decades in the making, that he had even begun to understand the extent of emotional, mental, and physical damage that domestic abuse could have on someone. And he had, his guilty conscience reminded him, played into those emotions to get out of an arrest for assaulting Alberto. He had lied to Raquel at the police station, had lied to her in her bed in her own home, about exactly what had transpired between him and Alberto. He had felt the truth behind all of his words - he had wanted to strangle that man with his bare hands for hurting Raquel - but he had lied all the same, playing into her profile, her vulnerability, her fears.

When they were reunited in Palawan, she had brought her mother and daughter to live with him there, and they had worked hard to create their own new little family. He had had to learn what it meant to be a father figure, the head of a family, an equal partner in a relationship. And Sergio had had to do it all with a woman in a lifelong process of healing from years of abuse and sexist treatment in a male-dominated workplace, who had just done the most feminine and frivolous thing she’d ever done in her life, and moved across the world because she’d fallen in love with a stranger in less than a week.

But they’ve resettled now, built entirely new lives, and he has sworn that nothing in the world could ever convince him to initiate another heist. There is no reason to ever return to Spain, and the threat of any future interaction with Alberto has seemed quite removed for some time, and yet . . . he has spent the last few days unable to anticipate how Raquel will react to this news. He only knows he wants to support her in any way she wants, and that they will make whatever plans necessary together. 

Over the years, he has been witness not only to Raquel’s lingering nightmares and instinctive reactions to sudden movements or noises or perceived threats, but to Paula’s fits and misunderstandings about why she can never again see her father or aunt or ever return to Spain. He has held Raquel as she has cried after trying in vain to explain the reality of their circumstances to Paula without really being to explain the complicated reasons behind the end of Alberto’s presence in her life. He has sat through hundreds of conversations where Raquel has patiently explained to her mother that they are not returning to Spain, that Marta will never be visiting, that they cannot write or send birthday cards or ring up to chat on Sundays. Sergio has picked up on the pain in her voice and held her tightly to him when she broke down in anguish, wondering for the hundredth time if she’d done the right thing to bring her aging mother along. 

All those hours on the boat ride here, through the darkest side of the night, towards the dawn, finally motoring into the little harbour that safely protected their home from the outside, he had wondered to himself how to break this news to her, how she would react, what she would want to do, if anything, to pursue more information. He had wondered if they would tell Maravi or Paula, if it would finally help them both accept that Raquel had always been telling the truth, and Alberto was a dangerous man.

And now here they were, freshly showered, kisses and caresses shared, safely tucked away into their wing of the home. And he was sharing what could potentially be a life-altering piece of news with her about her former life in Spain. About her ex-husband. About the biological father of their child. He swallowed hard against the fear and horror that mental reminder brought up.

He looked at her, after delivering the abbreviated version of his news, his hand reaching towards her shoulder of its own accord, before dropping again, unsure of what she needed at that moment.

She was so still, so very still for so long, that he called her name, wondering if she’d actually slipped into some sort of catatonic state in the shock.

Raquel startled back against the sofa at the repeated sound of her name. “What? Are you sure? What happened? My sister, is she - “ 

“Yes, yes, Marta is okay, or as well as she can be at the moment, I promise. It’s . . . it’s a bit of a story, and I don’t know how it will make you feel, but Raquel,” he looked deep into her eyes and reached tentatively for her hands, unsure how much physical contact she wanted at the moment, but wanting to feel connected to her. “Raquel, he’s been put behind bars for a long time. I believe, no matter what might ever happen to us in the near future, he would never be able to get custody of Paula. Never.”

Raquel nodded her head slowly, a wavering smile trying to spread across her face as her eyes filled with tears. 

“Promise?” she asked, her voice shaking just a little as her fingers gripped his tighter. 

“Well, first he’d have to climb over my dead body, so,” Sergio said gently, smiling. 

She gave him the tiny laugh he’d been aiming for, “and mine,” she added and then took a deep breath, steeling herself. “Okay, tell me what you know.”

Sergio spared a glance at her face, trying to read her emotions, but she just looked at him earnestly, seemingly ready for any information he would share. 

“As I am sure you would be able to ascertain for yourself, the details are all a bit sketchy and hidden behind layer of bureaucracy, so I am not entirely certain about what has taken place -”

“Sergio,” she interrupted.

He looked up to her in response.

“Just tell me what the fuck has happened. Where is he, and where is my sister.”

Sergio nodded, flicking a hand to his glasses to adjust them unnecessarily. 

“Vale. Here is what my team knows for certain. Alberto had been accused of ‘paying too much attention’ to one of the newer recruits on the force. She had reported him and he had denied everything, but there were some witnesses to his behaviour - standing too close, touching her, pressuring her to spend time with him. She pushed back on his advances, knowing he had a partner and not seeming to be interested in the first place. Then at a party, many people saw him trying to flirt with her, she wasn’t having it, but he wouldn’t give up, and she threw her drink at him, yelled at him saying he was disgusting, and who would ever want to be with someone like him.”

“Oh, I bet he didn’t like that. He’s always thought he was God’s gift,” Raquel said.

“He really didn’t. He proceeded to drink more, then drove himself home, banging up the car along the way against inanimate objects, including reversing into Prieto’s new car in the parking lot before heading home.” Raquel’s eyebrows raised. “I can’t say I mind that part too much. Luckily, he didn’t hit anyone and made it to his house. Marta was there with some friends, thinking he’d be out all night, and so she hadn’t told him. I guess closer to what he said in his interview was that she ‘hadn’t asked for permission’ to have any friends over. Upon arrival, seeing her friends, some that he didn’t know, he got even angrier, pushed her, said a lot of terrible things, and even threw a friend to the ground who tried to intervene.”

Raquel had started breathing in and out deeply, trying to control her emotions as Sergio painted the scene for her. He looked over at her, concerned, wondering if he should continue. She nodded quickly, “I’m okay,” and he pressed on. It hurt him to tell this story, knowing how it would upset her, but it also cut deeply that she seemed surprised by none of it. She had been through so much during her years with Alberto. But now she had to listen to her sister’s chosen fate. 

He took a deep breath himself, steeling his nerves to go on. “Fortunately, her friends had the presence of mind to film the altercation. When the cops came, he resisted arrest, throwing punches at the uniforms, several of which were his now former friends.” Suddenly, it became harder for Sergio to go on, as it was painful to recount such details. “He - he punched a hole through the wall next to her, and from what it sounds like, was tearing at her clothes, yelling that it wasn’t true that nobody would want him. It seems - it seems like he was going to - “

“Force himself on her?” Raquel muttered drily. “I put nothing past Alberto. That son of a bitch, that fucking - that fucking asshole! There aren’t words strong enough for how I feel -” she punched the pillow next to her.

Sergio turned his body more fully to her, her knees drawn up under her chin, subconsciously making herself a smaller physical target in the corner of the sofa. “Raquel, did he ever, when you were married,” he stopped when he saw the look in her eye, the tears wavering there, her chin quivering. 

“Don’t ask questions you don’t want to know the answer to, my love,” she said softly, her voice breaking. “'It’s not - '“ she gulped back a sob to continue speaking “ '- it’s not rape if you’re married,' he would tell me. I _owed_ it to him, he said. If I put up a fight, he’d threaten to get it elsewhere if I didn’t give in - ”

“But the law says - “

“Ha! Do you think that mattered to him? No. Not at all. Have you ever followed a rape trial? No matter what the circumstances, or the evidence, the man is _always_ given the benefit of a doubt, it's always about how terribly damaging these 'allegations' are to his stellar reputation. They list all his accomplishments, bring in character witnesses, display his fucking Boy Scout badges. His most handsome and innocent photo in the papers. But the woman? The woman gets raked through the mud - everything she ever wore or said, every fling or romance from her past, every tiny flirtation is examined. That boy you gave a strip tease to in university shows up with pictures you forgot you ever took. That one night stand in your twenties has something to say about how you led him on, never called him again.”

“Oh, Raquel - “ he tried to interject, but she held up her hand.

“No, listen to all I have to say. The rape kit examination alone is one of the most humiliating, invasive things I have ever seen administered to someone who has just experienced a traumatic, life-altering event. Alberto was counting on me not wanting to have to endure the questioning, the trial, the judgment, the damage to my career.” She shuddered before continuing quietly, her voice and gaze seeming very far away. “And it was easier, sometimes, to just go along with what he wanted, to get it over with, to stay quiet." She pulled a pillow into her lap, playing with the tassels, tracing her fingers along the embroidery. "Sometimes . . . sometimes the anger fueled me, and it would be okay, I would try to dominate it, take what I wanted and needed, but then I felt ashamed afterwards. And sometimes it was easier to just slip inside myself and let it happen, pretend, because I knew he’d always be so sweet, for days, even weeks afterwards, because he felt guilty.” She shrugged. “Women do all kinds of things you think you will never do, things I know I had judged others for, in order to survive. I could usually tell when it was coming, I’d try to get him too drunk to stay awake, and that worked sometimes. He’d get handsy, flirty, then aggressive, angry . . . I didn’t want to wake Paula, I didn’t want him to have an affair, I told myself it was my marital duty and . . . well, look how well all of that turned out for me.”

Sergio forced himself to breathe and count to 10. When that didn’t work, and he was still so horrified by this revelation and so angry he thought he might break something, he counted to 10 again. Against his will, images were flashing in his mind of just how big Alberto was, the angry look on his face he remembered, the physical strength he possessed. He counted to ten once more. That anyone could have treated Raquel, his love, his mujer, that way, that anyone calling themselves a ‘man’ would think that was how you proved your manhood, flexed your power over the woman you claimed to love, stretched too far beyond his powers of understanding. He wanted to find Alberto and make him pay. He wanted to kill him.

“Well,” she chuckled unexpectedly. “I don’t know how you would manage that from here, but I also don’t think I’d stop you from trying.” 

He hadn’t realized he’d spoken that last part out loud. He brought his hand down over his face, ticked his glasses up and looked into her eyes, still watery around the edges, but focused and clear as they looked back at him. He reached for her at the same time she leaned into him and he pulled her easily into his lap. He was desperate to hold her, comfort her, do anything that might make her feel the tiniest bit better in the moment. He pressed a kiss into the still damp crown of her head, rubbing his arms up and down her back and shoulders as she leaned into him. They drew strength from each other’s embrace for a few moments before she asked him to finish telling her everything he knew.

“Well, when the cops brought her in for a statement, Marta confessed that he had been doing all of that and worse for a long time.”

“Don’t say ‘confess,’” Raquel whispered, wrapping her arms around his middle. “My sister isn’t the one who committed any crimes. Except of making terrible fucking choices her entire life.”

Sergio stilled. Even as forward thinking, as progressive, as feminist as he considered himself, and having lived with a victim of domestic violence for years now, it surprised him that there could still be bias in his language. He shook his head. 

“You’re right. I’m so sorry, Raquel, I didn’t mean it like - “

“I know you didn’t,” she cut him off, waving her hand at the air before placing it back on his arm. “I can just imagine very well all she’s going through, having gone through it myself. This is exactly what I had feared - what I tried to prevent. My baby sister . . . “ her voice trailed off and tears slipped out and down her cheeks.

Sergio waited for a moment and then continued quietly. “It hasn’t made the papers - that’s one of the things I was worried most about. I knew his relationship and history with you, and your high profile, would be a field day for the media, bringing up both your roles in the heists, reigniting the search for our location - “ 

“ - and also dragging Marta through it all in the public eye,” Raquel said.

“Right. That wouldn’t have helped anything. Because there were public records of what you filed against him and it would be easy for any reporter to figure out how that had gotten swept under the rug in favor of Alberto. Because of this, the force is trying to rush the process and be as quiet about this as possible. They realized they fucked it up before, and are now going to face several lawsuits as more people come forward with evidence.“ Raquel glanced up in surprise. “Once news got around the station, more reports from more women have come in, a few with witnesses to back up the claims, which adds fuel and exposes the reality that systemic sexism and misogyny are alive and well within the Spanish police force. Alberto doesn’t seem to have any friends willing to negate the claims or keep him from receiving justice . . . My team has heard rumors that Angel was very angry on your behalf, ranting about how you should have been believed years ago when this first came up, that he always knew Alberto was a cocky son of a bitch, and so on.” Raquel smiled down at her hands at this bit of news. “Because they are keeping it so close, it’s hard to know exactly what his sentencing will be, but my team estimates 7-9 years based on the amount of evidence against him, money to be gained in lawsuits against the force if he’s not properly sentenced, and previous cases with similar stories. Which would mean that when he got out, Paula would already legally be an adult, or if perhaps he managed early release, nearly 18. There’s no way he could ever, ever, in any scenario I've imagined, get custody of her, contact her before then. She’s safe, my love. She’s safe.”

Raquel tucked her face into his neck, breathing in her relief. He felt her smile just a little, even as he felt the tears falling freely from her eyes. 

“There’s a bit more . . . I got access to a department memo about reexamining sexual harassment in the police force, committing funds to training, to consistent protocol checks, to revisiting the language in manuals, putting an anonymous hotline in place with the HR department. Real, actual change might happen because of this.“

“Fucking finally. That’s incredible,” she finally managed to say, overwhelmed with all the information. “But can you tell me any more about my sister?”

“We know she gave her statement and has been in the closed court a few times. She hasn't posted on social media since it started, but I know she's checked into a hotel. Her friends have been rallying around her, it seems. I guess that’s where you have to make the next decision.“

“What do you mean?”

“If you want, I could try to figure out a way for you to contact her, to - I don’t know - make amends, to put her at ease about your mother and Paula. But it’s up to you. Whatever you want to do, I will find a way to make it happen.”

Raquel paused for a moment before sitting up, still leaning close to him, but needing a bit of space to gather her thoughts. She hadn't even thought about that as an option. She had said her goodbyes to her sister in her heart a long time ago. Sergio looked at her, trying to read her emotions on her face as she gazed out towards the sea and sand. She wiped at her last tears, resolute. “I don’t know what to think about it just yet. Marta and I . . . we were never close, you know? When my father died, it affected both of us in different ways. I was older - I took off for university and tried to forget the reality of how our lives had changed. Marta just . . . well, she bounced from relationship to relationship. My mom was too deep in her own grief to see it or to help. I was gone. Part of me,” she paused, looking down at her hands in her lap, fiddling with the hem of her dress. “Part of me thinks that this is my fault, that I should have been more honest with her, with everyone, from the very beginning. So that Alberto never would have had the chance to hurt anyone else, let alone my own sister.”

“Whatever you did or didn’t do, everyone involved made their own choices. I know you know that, Raquel.”

“I do. I know. But thank you for reminding me. I know you know what it is like with a sibling - you love them with all your heart, but at the same time, you can also want to throw them off a cliff.” They both chuckled in agreement. “All my life, even as little girls, she has always made me crazy - stealing my clothes, spying on me and boyfriends and tattling to our parents, but also always wanted to sleep in my bed during a thunderstorm.”

“Can I ask - “ he started, unsure where his question would lead the conversation. “Can I ask, why do you think she ended up with Alberto? That seems so strange to me. I admit my experience with Andres and his parade of young wives did nothing for me, but . . . even if there had been tempting circumstances, I find it hard to imagine a brother, a sister, wanting to be with the ex-spouse of your own sibling.”

Raquel sighed and straightened up a bit. “I’ve thought about this a few times. To be honest, I am certain that Alberto pursued her just to be an asshole, just to see if he could, just to get at me where it would hurt the most. And she fell for it. Maybe it was deep-seeded sibling rivalry, jealousy, to get at me, that motivated her at first. And then shame and stubbornness that kept her there as long as she managed.” She played with his fingers now, tracing the tops and bottoms of his palms, cementing their physical connection even though her voice sounded far away, time traveling, sifting through events Sergio did and didn’t know about. “The thing is, no matter what has passed between us, I wish she’d had the confidence in our unshakeable bond as sisters to be honest with me when the abuse must have started, so I could have helped her get away.”

He stretched his fingers then to wind between hers, pulling her hand into his chest so her body would turn and allow him to kiss her again on the forehead, inviting her into his embrace. He pulled her small frame even closer to his.

“You take all the time you need, hm?” he whispered, gripping her tightly. “Whatever it is you want to happen for your sister, for our family, I promise I will try to find a way, okay?”

Raquel nestled into the promise of his embrace, soaking up his strength and his belief that they would be able to sort through whatever problems came their way (even those involving her completely knucklehead sister). “Thank you for keeping an eye on her,” she whispered. “I think you are right - I will need some time. I don't know what it would mean for my mother, for Paula . . . I don't know.”

“Whatever you want,” he agreed, kissing her head again.

She looked up into his eyes. “What I _want_ , Sergio, my guardian, my love, is to spend all day in bed with you. I missed you,” she leaned in to kiss him, opening her mouth to his briefly, her hands splaying across his chest, feeling him pant into their kiss. “But,” she pulled away abruptly, standing up and leaving him wanting, “we have breakfast being prepared, places to go, people to see.”

“Hey!” Sergio shook his daze away from his head. “Places to go? People to see? I just want - “

“I’m kidding. All we need is right here,” she smiled. “Now, we are clean, we are hungry,” he eyed her up and down with intent, “yes, that too, but you are tired. So would you like to nap first and I will go supervise the chaos in the kitchen and you can eat later, or you can push through? Whatever you want.” She reached out a hand to him and he pulled her fingers close to kiss them before he stood up next to her and pulled her in close to his chest for another hug.

“I’ll come with you to breakfast and then I will probably sleep for a bit, if that’s okay.”

“Of course, you were on a boat all night, I can’t believe you did that. You could have waited.”

“No, I couldn’t have,” he said simply. 

She pressed one last kiss to his chest before leading him out to the kitchen, where they were greeted with a small radio playing hits from the 70s, a kitchen counter full of flour and various bowls, Maraví swinging her hips over the stove cooking up something, and Paula with her tongue sticking out of her mouth, concentrating to pour fresh coffee into their respective mugs. 

“Papa! Mama! We’re almost ready! Go sit on the sofa and we’ll tell you when it’s done but don’t look too hard over here because there might be a little bit of a mess. Nothing to worry about!” Paula promised.

Raquel and Sergio chuckled and then walked over to the sofa to wait.

Five minutes later, the girls were seated around the breakfast table and Sergio was snoring softly, tucked under a blanket. 

Raquel’s head was spinning with all he had told her and she knew it would take some time to process and decide what to do, but her heart felt so warm and full and complete now that he was home, that even with all the uncertainty and concern for her sister, she searched it and found there was no fear for the future at all. Only hope.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments always very much appreciated. Like many of you, I'm spending a lot of time with fic to cope during this hard times! Always curious to know what you think and appreciate your reading!


	11. save me

The lifting of his glasses off and away from his face, a soft kiss to his cheek and the warm, gentle pressure of her small frame draping itself on top of him woke him up slowly. His fingers had been interlaced, laying over his chest as he’d snoozed, and his hands parted automatically to open up his arms to her as she snuggled into him, her nose and lips finding the sensitive skin of his neck and cheek as she settled in more fully on top of him. 

“I fell asleep?” he asked redundantly. He felt her smile against his neck. 

“I’m not surprised. You needed it, my love. Sailing all night to come home.”

“Hmmm, home,” he hummed against her, drawing his fingers up and down her spine, feeling her shiver against him before squeezing her closely to him for a moment. “I don’t hear anything. Where are the girls? Did I miss breakfast?”

“By several hours. We’re home alone. Paula already got one day off school this week, so I made her go today, even though she was going to be late. Juan Carlos took her over, as she’d missed the morning boat. She wasn’t too happy about it as she seems certain there are gifts for her among all the packages from the boat and she wanted to know what they were.”

Sergio chuckled at that. “She’s not wrong, there are a few things in there for her. However, the one I’m most excited about is actually a joint family present, for all of us, and requires a bit of set-up on my part, so she would have had to wait regardless.”

“Is that so?” Raquel asked, intrigued, raising her head to look at him. His eyes were still closed, but he was smiling. 

“No, Raquel,” he shook his head without opening his eyes. “You’ll have to wait, too. I am not telling you anything. And your mother?”

Raquel huffed and then tucked herself back against his shoulder. “She and Maribel hitched a lancha ride to the other side of the island. Someone’s had a baby and Mama has sewn some things together so they were going to visit and drop those off.”

“I love that your mother does that.”

“Well, I’m very grateful you’ve provided the sewing machine and materials for her to do so. She really makes lovely, creative things. She comes so alive when doing it, too. I’d almost forgotten all the matching outfits she used to make for me and my sister. Some were hideous, but I can appreciate the effort now,” Raquel chuckled. “I wish I had photographs to show you. We looked like those creepy girls in ‘The Shining.’”

“Never saw it.”

Raquel sighed against him. “Go figure. We have _so_ much work to do.”

She couldn’t see it, nuzzled against his neck as she was, but Sergio was trying very hard to suppress a smile at her response.

“Speaking of your sister,” he started to say, but Raquel shook her head against him. 

“No, I still haven’t decided. I’ve been thinking about it, of course. Over breakfast, with Mama and Paula, it was all I could do to stay focused on their conversation and then help get them both out the door without blurting something out. I think I know what I want to do, but might still need a few more days to really decide.”

Sergio pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Do you want to talk about it?” 

Raquel nestled herself closer to him, melting in gratitude. It had taken so long for him to know how and when to ask that question, how to start the vulnerable and intimate conversations she needed to have with him. She had never been a woman with many close friends, not even as a child did she have many close friends, but especially now, in their lives as internationally wanted criminals and fugitives, when their only real source of conversation and intimacy and interaction was each other, it had been so important to help Sergio learn how to come out of his shell and be able to give and receive these kinds of moments with honesty and support. They were implicitly each other’s best friend, and only friend, really, and lover, and confidante. It was a lot of responsibility to place on one person, even if it was accepted willingly. Raquel never took it for granted how open Sergio was about needing help navigating his first real relationship. She never took for granted the marked difference between his responses to her problems, her questions, in comparison to Alberto’s derision and scorn and humiliation. Just those few, simple words, and knowing that Sergio actually meant them, that he cared what she thought and felt, that he would listen and do anything and everything in his power to help her, meant the world to her.

“Thank you. Not just now, I think. I mean . . . I’m still processing it, you know? Sitting at breakfast this morning, I was trying to think what it might mean for Mama, for Paula, to know that Alberto is in jail, that it wasn’t me - that I wasn’t -” he felt her shake her head, the sharp intake of breath.

Feeling the tension rising in her body and hearing the pain in her voice made Sergio gather her in his arms and turn them sideways together so they faced each other on the sofa. He reached down to pull her leg up over his hip, slotting their legs together. He reached his hands up then, pulling her face up to level with his. “Hey, hey,” he murmured, brushing hair back from her face unnecessarily, scanning her face to try and pick up what emotion she was feeling. “It’s okay. You don’t have any timeline on which you need to decide anything. Take all the time you need. You can do nothing, if you want. I just - I wanted you to know. To know Paula is safe from him, no matter what. Your sister has been through a lot, and there is much we still don’t know, but she’s safe from him now. And we can move forward however you want to, and whenever you want to, okay?”

She nodded and gulped, canting her face into his palm against her cheek.

“I know I wasn’t completely upfront with how much I had been surveilling Alberto from the moment we left Spain, I just . . . I didn’t know how much you would want to know, how much it would hurt, and I really just wanted to find a way to bring justice about in a terribly corrupt system. For you, to make amends somehow for all he put you through. But with your sister so closely entwined in it all, it’s been difficult to know just how to move things forward. But now where things stand . . . Was I wrong to tell you?” he asked, nervous for her answer.

“No,” she shook her head, clearing her thoughts and looking fully into his eyes. She pressed a hard kiss against his mouth before pulling back. “Not at all. I’m glad to know where exactly he is, and how my sister is. I know there is so much to consider there - the risks involved in contacting her. And my mother . . . my daughter . . . what do they deserve in all of this? What do I owe them of Marta? What do I owe her? What makes sense? I just . . . I don’t know yet. But I am thrilled to think that there is a silver lining in this - that the entire establishment is being forced to reexamine its sexist attitudes and ‘good ol’ boys club’ mentality. Which was always complete shit. I’m - I’m devastated for my sister and very confused about what to do, but I am so grateful that I know. I know there is always a risk with these things. The most important thing is always that we are safe. And I know we are. I know you must have taken every precaution. Thank you. Thank you so much.” She pressed another kiss to his mouth, softer this time. “You take such good care of me.” She leaned in to kiss him, ready to stop talking and connect more physically, but he stilled at her words, not reciprocating her affection.

“Do I?” Sergio asked, his voice quiet and laden with anxiety.

“Do you what?” she asked.

“Do I . . . Raquel - do I take good care of you?”

Raquel pulled back, searching his eyes. They were dark, his eyebrows knitting together, pulled upwards and expressing his vulnerability.

“Sergio - how can you - of course you do,” she answered, her hands flying up to his face as she looked at him, trying to understand. She took a deep breath and waited until he was staring right back at her. “You’re the answer to questions I didn’t even know how to ask. You and me. This is it - you are everything I have ever wanted in a partner.”

“Are you sure?” he asked, with a shade of vulnerability still in his voice. She noticed him pull an arm away from her, shaking, and reach down towards his pants.

Raquel resisted the urge to roll her eyes. She smiled indulgently at him instead. “Sergio, my love, yes, I’m - “

He inhaled sharply and brought up a small box with something sparkling inside of it into her line of vision. “Marry me, Raquel?”


	12. everlong

“What?!” she squeaked, her mouth hanging open as she was absolutely caught off guard.

“Um, well, I -” Sergio stuttered, shifting around on the couch, unable to meet her eyes now as he felt his cheeks growing hot, looking down at the space between them and the ring in a box he held there. “I wanted to know if you would - if you think you could marry me. If I could take care of you. And the girls. For the rest of our lives.”

He chanced a look up at her. They stared at each other for a long moment, Sergio trying and failing to read what emotion Raquel was feeling as she blinked rapidly at him. 

“I’m sorry, I - I don’t know what I’m doing. I’m doing this even worse than I thought I would. Ah, fuck,” he sighed, leaning back to stare up at the ceiling, throwing a hand over his face, feeling embarrassed. “Raquel, I had a whole speech planned, I even wrote things down because I knew I would look at you and forget everything I wanted to say, you always make me forget my words, and I wanted you to know all the things you deserve to know, the way you make me feel, and then I just went and - I’m sorry, let’s just, can we just forget -”

“Sergio, cariño,” she whispered, her voice wavering in emotion. He lifted his hand and turned back to look at her, feeling hopeful again. She placed her hands on his cheeks, her fingers threading lightly through his beard, and he could see the tears gathering in her eyes. “I will marry you. I marry you every day in my heart. But yes - let’s do it for real,” and she smiled, brighter than the sun, the tears spilling over and down her cheeks. He broke into a grin that answered hers. 

“Really?” he whispered.

She giggled. “Of course, you very sweet, handsome, clever, but sometimes very stupid man. I love you. More than anything.”

He felt his heart squeeze in his chest. “You do?” he asked quietly, in awe.

“Sergio, my answer has been ‘yes’ since our first morning waking up together in Palawan.” He pulled her to him and kissed her hard, their arms winding around each other, breathing each other and the moment in, their lips meeting again and again until they had to stop for air. They parted just enough to breathe, smiling almost shyly at each other. “Would you feel better if I put the ring on?” she asked. He nodded swiftly, moving to open the box back up to her so she could see it properly for the first time.

“I really - I promise I had planned to do something better. I even looked up suggestions online - have you heard of a site called ‘Pinterest?’ It’s horrible, it’s full of all these ideas and I knew I wouldn’t be able to pull it off, but I really wanted to try to do something romantic, maybe at sunset, and champagne, something you’d remember. I had what I was going to say all planned out -”

“Oh, you’re not getting out of that,” Raquel raised an eyebrow at him, but still smiling. “I still want to hear that part. I’m not an expert in engagements but I think there is usually a bit more build up and I am interested in the part where you say nice things about me.” She leaned up to kiss him. “I don’t care about the rest,” she whispered, kissing him again, and he knew she meant it. 

He shifted more onto his back and she snuggled between the sofa and against him to look together as he held it up to her. “It’s not - I know it’s not a traditional engagement ring. I didn’t think that would suit you, or us. I had it made for you.” Raquel lifted her hand up off his chest, her fingers shaking slightly, and Sergio noticed with some surprise that his own hand was shaking as he plucked the silver ring out of the plush lining of the velvet box, dropping the box to the floor, and reached to gently slip the circle around her ring finger. “It took me a while to decide what I wanted it to be, but I remembered what you told Alicia Sierra, when you were caught in the tent, and she was trying to turn you against me, and it gave me the idea.”

“‘Not in seven reincarnations would you understand the nature of our love,’” Raquel whispered, quoting herself. She looked at the delicate silver band of an unending knot shining against her tan skin and turned to look at her now fiancee as he continued softly.

“It’s a combination of Celtic and Tibetan Buddhist symbols . . . an infinity knot band. I couldn’t decide which tradition and we’re not very traditional and they’re both beautiful. I just thought - in seven reincarnations, today and at the end of my days even I won’t understand how lucky I am to know you, to experience this kind of love and this life with you.”

“Oh, Sergio,” Raquel found herself unable to speak, her chin trembling with the effort to keep from truly crying. 

He smiled sheepishly at her. “I know I just said we aren’t a very traditional couple, but is it okay to say that I kind of like seeing this on your finger, and knowing it means we belong to each other?”

Raquel laughed lightly. “I like seeing it, too. More than I thought I would. I didn’t need a ring to feel like I belonged to you, that we belong together . . . and I know we’ve casually used the words for each other before, but I can’t wait to truly call you my husband,” she finished in a whisper, tucking her face into his shoulder. They lay together for a few moments, pressing soft kisses to each other, in a comfortable silence before Raquel spoke again. “You know, this is kind of fitting . . . we began our relationship on a couch. Now we’ve decided to cement it for life on a couch. This one is a lot more comfortable though,” she grinned, propping herself up on his chest to look at him better.

“Well. Had to provide an upgrade for my future wife,” Sergio quipped. 

“You like saying that, don’t you?” she teased. 

“I do. Very much,” he replied, solemnly, his hand weaving in her hair to bring her forward for a kiss that she returned gladly, reveling in the love she felt emanating from him.

“How did that ring even get in your pocket? We were just in the shower, and then talking on the patio . . . you just got home a few hours ago!”

“Well, I had it in my pocket on the boat, and then grabbed it quickly before we came out here. I was worried that somehow, today would be the one time you felt like cleaning up the bathroom and doing laundry before I did and would find the ring on accident - ow!” he cried in mock pain as Raquel swatted at his chest. Sergio’s fastidious nature over clothes on the floor and Raquel’s much more carefree attitude about keeping their room tidy was a long-standing point of teasing between the two of them.

“Fine. But to be clear, let the record state that marital status does not guarantee any changing of habits, especially when one partner is so over-particular about something as trivial as how long it takes for clothing to get in the laundry hamper.”

“Of course, mi amor,” he quieted her with a kiss, his hands beginning to wander.

“So, tell me,” she asked, pulling away for a moment, resisting the rising desire that always came when Sergio was so near and so tender. “What was your grand plan going to be, mm? And what changed that brought your very sweet,” - kiss - “but seemed like a surprise to even you,” - kiss - “spontaneous proposal about now?” Raquel said.

Sergio stilled in her kiss against his lips. “Oh. Well. It - I - well, I wanted to - “ he fell silent, unsure how to begin. There were so many things he had thought about during those days he had spent on the mainland, separated from Raquel, but for her protection, to find out more about Alberto, and purchasing different items for their family, and thinking about their future, and late at night, reliving so many moments of their past.

“Yes?” Raquel prompted, a smirk playing upon her face, knowing he was slightly uncomfortable but wanting him to provide the answers anyway, because they were important.

Sergio lay his head back on the throw pillow and looked up at the ceiling of the casita as if the answers might be hidden in the wooden beams. He watched a gecko scamper across the eaves and hide in a shadow. Quietly, one arm still pillowing Raquel, his other hand reached across his chest to thread his fingers through hers, trying to feel more connected, to draw strength from their mutual love. He gathered his thoughts but found himself unable to look her in the eye just yet, feeling her watching him, studying him, knowing him as she always did. 

“Raquel - from the moment we met - you have been the only woman I could ever see myself marrying. I never bothered to think about a life as a partner, a husband, a father, any of those things, when I was growing up. I didn’t think it was a possibility for me because I was not able to guarantee I would live so long or, when I defied the odds and could be secure in a healthy life, I didn’t have - I wasn’t confident to go out and even try to find anyone. I was sure no one would want, well, what I am.”

“Mi amor - you _are_ \- ” Raquel tried to interject.

“No, no, let me finish, I’ve come this far. I have been wanting to propose to you in a way that you deserve for a long time. I’ve been thinking about the ring since Palawan, maybe even before, if I’m honest. I’d been hoping to find a perfect moment, to create something beautiful for you.” He shook his head to clear the unrealistic expectations that had been gathering in his head. “But when I got the news about Alberto, and I felt more certain that a big concern, an obstacle in our lives, particularly in your life, had been removed for good, I felt that perhaps a chapter in your book of life was officially closing in a way. I wanted to start a new, fresh chapter with you. I can be Paula’s legal guardian now, we don’t have to worry about Alberto ever getting custody, we can truly move forward. I wanted to - I want you to know how much I love you - how much I love our family, our life together. And I just couldn’t wait to make a perfect moment to ask you, because every moment I get to be with you is special to me.” Sergio pulled her closer to his chest, his heart beating wildly but he didn’t care if she could feel it or hear it. He brought her in as close as he could, needing to feel her against him in every way as he continued. “After everything we have been through, what we have seen and done to be together, I do not take any of our time together for granted. You have brought me to life in a way I did not know was possible.” He turned his head to look at her, her eyes shining with tears, her lips trembling, and her fingers reached forward to cup his face in her hand. “With you, I don’t have to pretend, not even for a second. You see me and you know me, and somehow you love me anyway. And - “ he drew a shaky breath, looking deeply into her eyes. “And I love you. With all of me, whatever it is to offer, I am yours.”

Holding his gaze, Raquel pressed tender kisses to his cheeks, tracing the tracks of the tears he hadn't’ even realized he’d been shedding. “Sergio,” her raspy voice melted through the silence. “I love you, too. I am so in love with you.” She pulled back with a quick laugh, full of emotion, her tears still spilling.

They stared at each other for a moment before bursting into laughter and reaching for each other to hold each other close on the couch, arms and legs and hearts and souls intertwined and as close as could be.

Eventually they pulled back to look at each other clearly, chuckling and teary-eyed. Sergio moved to adjust his glasses, Raquel looked quickly at the clock on the wall behind them to check the time and estimate how much longer until either her mother or their daughter came home.

Raquel couldn’t stop smiling. She felt overwhelmed with love and joy and a deep peace at Sergio’s words and his desire to make them a family and be Paula’s legal guardian. She knew whatever paperwork that required, it would be a secret they’d have to keep. But if the situation ever arose, she felt relieved in a way she couldn’t quite articulate that Sergio would indeed have legal guardianship of Paula. 

They smiled tenderly at each other for a moment and she brushed her tears away with the back of her hand. Sergio caught it and brought it to his lips to kiss it, his kiss lingering and then moving to kiss each of her fingertips, and then pressing a kiss on the new ring that sparkled from her hand. When he looked back up at her, Sergio’s heated stare at her made her stomach swoop and she reached for him immediately. Their kisses grew more heated and hands started wandering, the passion rising between them. Her hands sifted through the soft chords of his hair as his hands went to her waist, then moved to cup her shoulder blades, pulling her impossibly closer against his body. When his hands drifted to her hair, she knew they’d need to take it to the bedroom quickly. It had been nearly a week apart, her birthday was tomorrow, they’d just gotten engaged, every touch between them felt electric - they were due for some mind-blowing physical connection, which should not happen where her daughter or mother could easily stumble upon them.

Raquel leveraged herself against the couch and pushed herself up into Sergio’s personal space, her lips against his, her lands winding around every part of him, reaching under his shirt to feel the coarse hair against his belly and he groaned into her mouth at her movements, reaching to run a hand up her thigh under her dress. She wanted him so badly and she felt him hard against her, clear he felt the same. 

“Raquel,” he moaned again, breathing hot and heavy in her ear before he took her earlobe in his mouth, nibbling gently and kissing down her neck as his hands wandered higher to cup her ass. She heard everything he didn’t say in that - ‘I want you, I need you, I love you.’

He extracted himself from within her arms and stood up suddenly, and she nearly giggled at the picture of his growing erection tenting in his linen pants, his hair in every direction, and eyes dark with lust. “I’m taking you to the bedroom now,” he announced, and then she gasped as he swooped down and picked her up to carry her to the back of the house. “Sergio!” she laughed, surprised and melting a little at his romantic gesture as she wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing his cheek while he walked as quickly as he could towards their bedroom.

“Over the threshold,” he whispered into her ear to make her smile as they crossed into their room. He set her down gently on the bed before going back to close and lock the door and turning to her again, his eyes somehow hot and tender, full of want and adoration all at once as he looked her up and down. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” he said, walking to her and shaking his head as if he couldn’t believe his luck.

Raquel felt her whole body flush under his attention, and marveled again at this complex man who could turn her on and then become so tender, who could undo her physically and emotionally and spiritually in a thousand ways. They had made love hundreds, thousands of times over the years, at all hours of the day, in dozens of different places and moods, happy, sad, angry love had been made. But both of them felt the distinct difference in the air there was, knowing that they were now about to make love as a man and woman who had just promised to stand in front of what family and friends might be able to gather and exchange vows to spend the rest of their lives together.

He pulled off his shirt and she smiled as he gave her a small smirk as he dramatically dropped it on the ground instead of folding it neatly or placing it gently anywhere, as he normally would. Sergio slid onto the bed next to her and she closed her eyes and let him trace a hand over her face, his fingers trailing lightly down her neck, through the valley of her breasts before landing on her hip to turn her towards him. “Mi mujer,” he said softly, his voice full of wonder. 

“Yours,” she whispered back before their lips met, hands slid up and down, legs shifted, clothing disappeared and their bodies danced together in time to seal the promise that they had made to each other.

Afterwards, as they lay together, sated and smiling and still tangled up in each other's arms, Raquel's hand making lazy passes over his chest, Sergio asked her one more very important question:

"Raquel, for the wedding, we have one more important thing to decide - do we invite la banda?"


	13. Stay Awake

Sergio had always planned for everything possible in his life: growing up in a hospital, his every calorie and breath and white blood cell had been carefully regulated and accounted for, his life a schedule that didn’t alter. Always, he relied on the safe feeling from a careful rotation of his clothes, down to socks and underwear and his pyjamas. His meals were planned carefully to be as convenient and nutritious as possible, honoring local meats, vegetables and fruits in season to make sure he didn’t contribute more than necessary to his carbon footprint. The first heist had required years of meticulous research and planning, plans a through z for each code named planned, files upon files and then fake files, maps, blueprints, finances, and then the escape routes and secret destinations of la banda had taken ages to formulate.

And then there was Raquel. From the very first moment they’d met, she had captivated him. All his research and reserve could never have prepared him to meet her and interact with her in the flesh, more vibrant and complex than his plans had imagined.

Don’t bother asking him what it was, because he has spent years of his life now trying to figure it out and he can’t. He can’t possibly articulate what it was about the woman that was the undoing and also the making of his life. Her hair, her eyes, the timbre of her voice, the crinkle of her face around her smile, the warmth of her hands on his and the vibrations in his soul her mere presence provoked had been far beyond his capacity for trouble-shooting every scenario.

He had tried in vain to come up with something original and romantic, something memorable for her for his proposal, knowing in his heart that she deserved the best of everything and never feeling, despite all her reassurances, that he measured up to even half of what she wanted or needed. Raquel had assured him, after the glee of showing the ring to Paula and her mother, glossing over the story of how it happened, and focusing on how very happy it made them all, that she truly hadn’t ever wanted or needed or even thought too much about the moment of their engagement - in her mind, they’d been more than married for a long time. And yet, Sergio couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed in himself that he’d stumbled so awkwardly into it.

After a nice family dinner, with some gifts from Sergio all around, there still remained a big box of items. Sergio made all three ladies swear on the newly settled chickens that they would not steal a peek at the contents. Raquel had seemed very perplexed that it was somehow a gift for all of them, although Sergio confirmed it was definitely something she wanted. She’d whispered hotly in his ear that she was confident she could find a way to persuade him to tell her, perhaps later in the bedroom, without so many curious eyes, but he had stood firm.

“No. It’s a birthday surprise.”

“But Professor,” she had tried, slinging an arm over him and sliding into his lap as they’d all lounged on the couches after dinner.

“No. But. I guess, in the interest of . . . myself . . . you could tell me all your ideas about this? How do you think you could persuade me?” he’d asked, in a whisper just as low.

Raquel had indulged him, her breathy declarations of just how she could seduce information from him causing a most conspicuous tightening in his trousers that he adjusted her legs over to hide from the other members of the household, a blush rising to his cheeks. Raquel always found a secret thrill in saying something naughty to him in the presence of others, since it threw him so off balance. “Fair play, Professor,” she always reminded him. They sat entwined together, and then Raquel pressed an open mouth kiss to the pulse point in his neck before he abruptly shoved her off his lap into her own spot on the couch. He shot her a fake glare and covered his lap with a pillow as she stifled a giggle, settling back into the sofa, reaching for her glass of wine.

They both made an effort to stifle the chemistry bubbling between them and continued watching Paula tease the cat with a piece of yarn and waiting for the stars to come out - “to make birthday wishes!” as Paula had declared. At just twelve “but ALMOST 13! This year!” as she kept reminding everyone, Paula somehow managed to balance the charming parts about being a child with the increasing awareness (at least, on her parents’ part) that she was growing up. She still wanted to be tucked into bed most nights, with one parent reading to her, sharing about the day, indulging in her whims and fancies. “You’ll spoil her!” Maravi sometimes warned, but both Raquel and Sergio felt it was a small indulgence compared to all the things about a normal childhood Paula had missed out on because of her upbringing in recent years. Sometimes her mood swings or profound observations would throw both Raquel and Sergio off-guard, and they had secret frantic conversations (and long reading and research sessions for Sergio) about ways they could raise a well-adjusted teenager with internationally sought after criminals for parents on a remote island in Central America . . . but put an animal in front of Paula - something she had always wanted in Spain and was never able to have because of the instability in their home - and she was all kid again.

They watched silently for a moment before Raquel cleared her throat, looking mischievously at Sergio. “The chickens were a good idea, my love,” she said. “Did you bring home a nice cock to entertain them?” she teased.

Sergio cleared his throat and shook his head at Raquel at the word she chose to use, pillow still clutched to his lap and hid his growing desire while she snuck her toes under his thighs from her side of the couch, giggling. It was moments like these that took her breath away sometimes - the easy domesticity of it all, the spaces Sergio so effortlessly filled in her heart, the adaptability all four of them had shown to another life change.  
“As I’m sure you know, hens do not require a male to produce," he replied.

“Oh, I know that very well. Makes some females of different species a little jealous, I’m sure. To not have to deal with a cocky male, prancing all about, bestowing his ‘gifts’ upon the hens in the nest, thinking he’s so great, stirring up trouble among the women.”

He glared at her. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“No, really, I can see the appeal. You’ve told me you’re a feminist, you get it. I know you’ve studied and, I might add, taken advantage of toxic masculinity. Matriarchies are very successful models for economies, healthcare, equal rights and representation and distribution of labor. I mean, we three lasted five days without you just - “ she squealed as Sergio grabbed a foot and pulled her towards him on her backside, tickling her foot and making her gasp in laughter.

“Take it back, Inspectora,” he growled.

“Tell me what’s in the box!” Raquel managed between laughs, kicking futilely at his grasp. “Forgot how fucking strong you are!” she squealed again as he gripped her other foot.

“You need reminding?” he teased, reaching to grip her at the waist and pull her roughly back up into his lap.

“Ha! I can’t say I mind it,” she breathed, feeling triumphant over she wasn’t sure what, but happy to be in his lap again. They smiled at each other, eyes raking over faces like they hadn’t seen each other in months. Raquel felt her heart race.

“You guys are getting weird. I’m going to bed,” Paula announced, standing up in the middle of the outdoor living room, abandoning the string on the coffee table and scooping up the cat. “C’mon, abuela. Mom and Dad are making eyes at each other. Ew.”

“Oh, and that means bedtime!” Maravi agreed, groaning just a little as it took two tries to get momentum going as she lifted herself out of the hammock.

“Mama, are you okay? I told you that wasn’t a great place for you - “

“I’m fine, Raquel!” she shushed, flapping her hand at her daughter to get her back on the sofa. “I’ll tuck this one in,” she motioned again, this time to Paula, who was swaying back and forth from one foot to the other, holding a very grumpy looking cat against her chest and humming something with a sleepy tune. “Enjoy your last night in your early forties,” Maravi smirked as a goodbye, kissing Raquel on the cheek and shaking a finger at Sergio. “And I want my daughter in bed by midnight, young man,” she intoned.

“Of course, señora,” Sergio replied automatically, voice full of respect and trying hard to still Raquel in his arms, as if they hadn’t been full on flirting for the last hour.

“Oh, resist the urge to salute, please,” Raquel mocked, her eyes wide as she turned back to her beloved, full of good humor, as her mother and daughter walked off to their bedroom quarters.

“Hey, we all know what the clucking order was when I was gone, and still is, even though I am here.” Sergio shrugged and then sighed, looking about at their surroundings as if there was nothing to inspire them. “Well, what’s to do, Raquel, with only two hours left before curfew? Perhaps we should just head to bed early?”

The answering gleam in her eyes said everything he needed to know, and he swept her into his arms and headed back to what they sometimes secretly referred to as “the adult annex.”

Despite the energy they’d expended on their reunion that afternoon, both Sergio and Raquel found their mutual excitement over being newly engaged and his return home easily inspired them towards each other again, making love slowly with long touches, sensual kisses, gasps and sighs and connecting with each other on the ever deeper levels they found for their love.

The next day was Saturday, a perfect day to celebrate a milestone of a birthday. But for now, it was a clear, somewhat humid, breezy night, with their family all under the same roof, no threat on the horizon except impending age changes. They fell asleep in each other’s arms, sated and hearts full.


	14. lay me down

She was still hovering on the edges of a dream, nearly awake, but it was a good dream, she didn’t know about what, but she was warm and safe and everything felt quite nice and oh - there he was, there was real, there was Sergio, her heart’s beat, the mattress dipping under his weight as he eased in next to her, fitting himself to her from head to toe.

Raquel made the great almost asleep and not quite asleep effort and slid her foot lazily up the back of his calf and threaded her fingers through the hand that was at her hip to encourage him.

  
She loved when he woke her up gently like this. By nature an anxious sleeper and an early riser, Sergio often would be up and dressed, bringing her a mug of coffee and sitting on the bed by her hip before she’d even opened her eyes. This was on mornings that Paula had school and they had to be up and about at a certain time. But on weekends, or special occasions, days like today, it was unhurried, featherlight kisses across her shoulders, fingertips trailing down her arm, across her stomach, under her shirt and across her ribcage. He waited patiently until she’d given a small hum to indicate she was awake and that his hand was warm enough to be acceptable before moving to cup her breast, stroke lightly at her nipples.

In the growing warm light of the morning, his touch brought goosebumps rising along her flesh, an aching in her lower belly. She rocked back against him and felt him hard against her already. “Mmm good morning then . . . how long have you been awake?” she asked, voice laced with sleep, raising a hand to scratch through his beard as his kisses wandered up from her shoulder to her neck, her ear, her cheek.

“A while . . . I had some things to arrange for my birthday girl,” he smiled into her kiss as she turned her face to meet his.

“Ooh, minty fresh already?” she asked, kissing him again, opening her mouth to him. “And coffee?” she tasted on him, opening her eyes fully for the first time. “What time is it?” she asked, pulling back and suddenly a little alarmed. She had anticipated some birthday love this morning, but if he’d already been up and about having coffee and brushed his teeth, they might not have as much privacy left as she wanted.

Sergio chuckled, seeming to read her mind and her cause for concern. “Relax, it’s early yet. As I said, I just had to get up and get things into working order and I wanted to do it before the house was awake.” He rocked into her again and she hummed in pleasure.

“You mean there might be something fun waiting out there for me?” she asked lightly, not really caring about anything he could have bought her, her breath hitching as his hand dipped lower, past the waistband of her shorts, brushing against the curls there. She parted her legs in reflex and whimpered into his touch.

“I thought we could start with some fun in here,” he whispered, cupping her gently and letting her push her hips into his hand. “Come here,” he asked, turning her in his arms so she lay fully on her back and he lay half on top of her, his leg in between hers, pressing her back into the bed. He propped himself up on his elbow to look at her as she fully opened her eyes to him, a sleepy smile spreading across her face.

“Hi,” she murmured, gazing up at him in adoration.

His eyes traced her hair, fanned out on the pillow, her eyes soft with sleep and love for him, the outline of her lips, parted slightly over a lazy smile, the angle of her nose and her chin and her cheekbones and the healthy glow of her skin in the rising light of the breaking of a new day. She was so lovely it nearly broke his heart.

“You’re the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.”

Raquel blushed and laughed lightly, averting her eyes. “You don’t even have your glasses on, mi amor, so -”

“I mean it. Let me try to tell you. You are so beautiful, so - so clever, so important, you - “ he glanced away for a moment, unable to articulate what he wanted to say. “You are everything to me, Raquel. You are all I ever wanted when I didn’t even think I wanted anything.”

“Sergio,” she breathed, her chin threatening a quiver as he started to trace her forehead with the tip of his forefinger, tracing her eyebrows and nose, her cheek. His fingers gently traveled down her neck and to her collarbone, where he pressed his lips in a reverent kiss. And then another, and then his mouth opened and she felt his tongue dragging against her skin. Her nipples hardened against his chest and she knew he’d felt it when he shifted against her, rubbing, gaining traction. Then the entire mood of the room changed.

“I’m going to kiss every part of you now, if that’s okay with you, birthday girl,” he promised along her throat, trailing his lips up to her ear.

“Oh,” she gasped as his hot breath ignited her skin.

“Is that okay?” he breathed into her ear, lips lingering as she shifted her hips under his to try and get some friction against where she wanted it most.

He was hard against her belly and they both still had clothes on and somehow he had melted her with his words and was now setting her on fire with his lips against her skin and all she wanted was his hands and mouth on every part of her.

It wasn’t often Sergio took control unless Raquel explicitly asked for him to do so, and it surprised her that he knew that was what she wanted this morning - an absolute fucking escape - with all the new developments swirling around in her head about Alberto, her sister, Sergio taking off for five days, Paula growing up, her mother alternating between good and bad days, turning 45, getting engaged, living on a remote island in the Carribean, internationally wanted fugitives, how could he have known that the one thing she craved the most this morning was just to make no decisions, to be worshipped, to feel good?

But he did, he knew, he read her mind as he somehow nearly always could, gently removing her clothes, quickly removing his, whispering worship against her breasts, teeth and lips and tongue before sliding down her body to press his mouth to where she ached for his touch. She could hear herself saying “Fuck fuck Sergio fuck SERGIO” over and over as he worked his mouth against her center, his hands somehow in every place at once, spreading her open and kneading at her breasts and pumping fingers inside her. He held her hips up in his hands and she ceded control until she was grasping at his hair, at the pillows, biting the back of her hand, and suddenly she was falling through space and time, clutching him to her center, a deep ache finally released.

Sergio lapped at her, his hips pumping subconsciously against the bed as he worked her through her orgasm and the aftershocks, gazing up to watch her thrash against the bed, enthralled as he always was with the way he could make her come, the sound of his name rumbling from the back of her throat, the way her eyes rolled back in her head. He would never get enough of hearing her breathe his name or her sighs. He loved how her body felt in his hands, the curves and the strong spaces, the warmth and the smoothness. He rose above her now, gazing down at her chest gasping for air, her eyes coming back to focus, her tongue licking against her lips.

He looked down upon her in adoration, wondering what she would want next. He was hard as a rock, begging for release, hot against her thigh, but today and really all of his days were about her. He waited for a request, a movement from her, a sign for how to continue.

Raquel took a deep breath and seemed to come back from another place to look him in the eyes. “That was incredible, my love. I don’t know how you do that to me.”

“Oh?” was all he felt safe to say.

“Yes, Sergio. Fuck.”

He felt himself flush with pride as she reached for him, pulling him down for a kiss, her mouth open.

She smiled with satisfaction as he groaned into their kiss, moving against her fingernails scratching through his beard, his scalp, the feeling of his arousal pressing against where she was still so sensitive it sent shockwaves through her.

“What do you- “ he began to ask.

Raquel slung her arms around his shoulders to keep him just that close to her as she spoke. “I want you. I want you inside me right now. Melt me into the bed,” she asked, her eyes half-lidded with lust. She bucked her hips up towards his just to hear him groan before he tried to protest.

“Really? Are you sure - “ he started to ask. Raquel fought the urge to roll her eyes at his solicitousness, but understood why he would. His clinical brain would be calculating her orgasm success rate in this position, tracking it against the invisible spreadsheet she was sure he had in his head that tracked every sexual encounter they had, and then thinking that it was her birthday, and with his inherent guilt complex, thinking he had to make her come ten times to his every one release. She usually wanted it from behind, in his lap, against a wall, rough and fast, and then a second time. But today -

“Sergio - sometimes I just want to feel you everywhere, to feel your weight on me, to look into your eyes - “ she broke off, suddenly overwhelmed with emotions. “It’s my birthday, and I - “

“Hey - “ he interrupted. “Don’t think for a moment I’m complaining.” He brushed the hair back from her face, looking into her eyes and maybe reading even better what she wanted. They breathed each other in for a moment before he spoke.

“I only want to give you what you want. Not just on your birthday, but every day. You know that, don’t you?” He waited until she nodded slowly. He kissed her lightly and then let his eyes drag over her face, her shoulders, every part of her he could see. “Wrap your legs around me, Raquel,” his voice dipped low suddenly. She did, her breath hitching as she adjusted against the bed, and he reached between them to slide himself up and down her cunt. He pumped against her for a moment, then looked back into her eyes before sliding himself home, sheathed inside her, buried to the hilt, gasping for breath at the feeling. He stilled, looking down at her. “I fucking love you,” he managed, rocking against her slowly, afraid to let the feeling take over him and it would be over too soon.

“Oh, I love you, I fucking love you - “ she cried out as he pumped against her with intent.

Her fingernails clawed against his back, his shoulders, pulling him closer, urging him on. He lapped at her neck, her collarbone, whispered dirty things into her ears as she moaned and bucked her hips back up against his. She brought her fingers up to his mouth and after he’d sucked on them, she slid them down her body to her clit while he watched and then began circling the bundle of nerves that would tighten her all around him and send them both over the edge.

The sight of him, slack-jawed and moaning beyond his control, taking her in with his forehead furrowing in concentration, watching her touch herself with juices from his mouth, and the sound of the absolutely filthy phrases that came streaming out of his mouth afterwards which she knew he wouldn't remember were more than enough to send her careening over the abyss again. Raquel felt her fingers circling, felt Sergio pumping the last of his release inside of her, felt his collapse on top of her, their sweat and intimate smells and sex mingling, his open kisses against every bit of skin he could reach, and felt the over-whelming love she’d always longed for as she clawed against his back and felt him reaching back for every part of her that he could reach with equal fervor. She saw stars and felt them against her skin as he kissed her, every passion and emotion and arousing thought she’d ever had somehow congregating around her clit and exploding in a claustrofuck of feelings.

“Happy. Birthday. Indeed.” she managed, coming down from her high.

“To whom?” he asked, panting against her chest.

“I don’t even - “ she tried, and then slid her fingers down through his hair. “I think it’s mine but -”

“No, I mean, yes, of course, but that was - that was also mine for the rest of my life. Fuck. Just watching you. I can’t - I meant to - ah, fuck.” was all he could say as he collapsed against her chest.

Raquel’s arms slipped around his body, clinging him to her, keeping him inside her. “I wanted exactly this. Stay here just a moment and hold me.”

He knew surprise was written all across his face as he pulled up and away to look at her, but one glance at her face and he knew she was serious. He snuggled gratefully against her; he was usually the one asking for more time to connect slowly and softly and physically after sex.

  
He nestled against her for a minute, drinking her in, memorizing the moment before he realized how quiet she'd gotten. He propped himself up to ask - “Raquel, are you okay?”

She tried to nod, but couldn't speak just yet. She lay there, holding him against her chest, fighting the tears she felt because she was just so damn happy, felt so damn loved, and tried to find the words because he deserved them.

“Raquel?” he asked again.

She took a deep breath. “I’m so happy it’s overwhelming. It’s almost frightening.” He leaned in and kissed her cheek softly, trailing kisses down her neck as she caressed his shoulders with her hands. She felt him smile against her shoulder. “You make me feel so loved, Sergio. I never want this feeling to go away.”

”We won’t let it.”

”Promise?” 

“With all my heart, my love,” he kissed her softly, slowly, sealing his promise. “Don’t be scared of the happiness. I know I have felt that in the past, that it’s too good to be true, too good to last. But we’ve fought for this. You deserve every good feeling and every good thing. And I’m so glad you think that includes me in your life. And I’m not going anywhere.” He brushed her hair from her face gently. “You are my world.” They kissed again, blessing the moment. “However,” he smiled, “I am aware that I share you and we should probably shower and change and begin your celebrations.” Sergio slipped out of her slowly and they both hummed at the loss of contact as he stood up, but he held out his hand to her and she took it gratefully to get out of bed and lean into his side as they walked to the bathroom to start their day. 


	15. in your eyes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like many of you might have been, I was alone at Christmas this year, thousands of miles away from my family. Reading fic, living in an alternate universe, imagining this Serquel scenario helped me, as I missed my own family so desperately. I love this couple so much, this family, and I feel like they deserve way more than we got in the show. Anyway - if you have been reading, thank you! Please don't be afraid to comment ANYTHING. It would be so encouraging. I speak Spanish and Portuguese and have google translate and just generally want to interact with other Serquel fans. I'm on tumblr on the same name, write for a few other fandoms, etc.

Once showered and dressed, they made their way to the kitchen, Sergio moving to open up the shuttered doors that led to the outdoor living room casita and the ocean breeze. Raquel poured herself some coffee and then sat down at the kitchen island. She noticed something looked different about the set up near the stereo and TV screen, but was quickly distracted by the entrance of her mother, who shuffled over and gave her a sleepy hug before going to pour herself some coffee. Raquel and Sergio exchanged amused glances, as Maraví had clearly forgotten it was Raquel’s birthday, and would be adorably apologetic about it as soon as she remembered. 

Watching Sergio walk over to greet Maraví and help her get some bread out to toast (and probably subtly reminding her that it was a special day, even though they’d spent most of the week already celebrating) Raquel’s mind flashed back to memorable birthdays growing up - her memories touching on her father always with some surprise adventure for the day, or her mother forcing her on a scavenger hunt to find some special gift. There in every memory was her sister Marta clapping and laughing, right at her side. This included the memory of one particular year, when Marta was caught blowing out the candles on the cake before Raquel had a chance to, which earned her a swat on the bottom and the rest of the evening in their shared room alone. Raquel had sneaked her a piece of cake later, only after making Marta promise to never do that again and to swear on their seashell collection that Raquel was “the best sister ever.”

When they were older, the celebrations had naturally been more about their friends coming over and having sleepovers, getting their ears pierced, taking their driver’s tests, getting a later curfew on the weekends (which Raquel was always home early for and Marta somehow always forgot). 

During college years, then the academy, Raquel had been too focused on studies and getting ahead, or at least measuring up enough to her male colleagues to be noticed. She couldn't be bothered to really care much about celebrating her birthday, except for being coerced into one vodka-soaked weekend on the beach in Barcelona with Alicia and some other women who were also slogging it through police training amidst all the misogyny and double standards. Raquel remembered it had been more fun getting ready, making drinks, letting the alcohol lower her inhibitions sip by sip, and finally indulging in the gossip with the other women, talking shit about the captains, complaining about the drills. 

Alberto had actually probably enjoyed the absence of expectations Raquel had for celebrating her birthday when they were together, which was just another red flag in the graveyard of memories of their relationship. And as far as gifts went, the ones she had truly loved were all the tiny handmade things Paula had given her over the years - school crafts of handprints, “I LUVU MAMA” written in her careful 5 year old script, popsicle stick picture frames. All that was gone now, never to be seen again, like so many of their memories that they had to leave behind in Spain when they had so hastily and secretly departed to meet Sergio in the Philippines after Raquel had finally discovered the postcard coordinates.

And here she was - 45, newly engaged to the best and most unexpected thing that had ever happened to her, living on a tropical island with an aging mother and pre-teen daughter that were bringing their own challenges but also all the love she could ever want in the world. 

“Raquel! It’s your birthday!” Maraví suddenly turned and cried out, rushing towards her daughter with open arms and generous kisses. 

“It is! How did you know?” Raquel laughed and looked over at Sergio, who was looking down at his coffee with a smile. Their eyes met and he shrugged, and she knew he had reminded Maraví what day it was, probably to avoid her feeling embarrassed when Paula came out. For someone who had lived his life without much familial interaction, and had been so afraid of not being able to understand and fit in with the dynamics of the Murillo women, sometimes his thoughtfulness truly blew her away.

Her mother chattered away at her, stroking her hair, kissing her cheeks and showering her with affection and birthday blessings before promising to make her the best avocado toast and yogurt parfait Raquel had ever known. Raquel blushed under all the love and compliments, but noticed Sergio sneak off down the hallway, perhaps to wake up Paula to join the fun. It was past time for her to be awake, but she _was_ growing up, as she kept reminding them. Raquel remembered her teenage years, when her energy levels were up and down all the time, her hormones and body changes a mystery and a nuisance and a thrill all at the same time. She wondered what Paula would be like, and could only hope that she and Sergio would be ready for it. 

Who was she kidding. They wouldn’t be ready, what parents ever were? But Paula growing up was inevitable. And Raquel knew that she had an amazing partner at her side to navigate the challenges ahead. 

She heard the footsteps of the very objects of her thoughts came down the hall just then, grinning at each other as if in some kind of secret game or conspiracy against her. Raquel had a feeling that this would not be the last time in their lives she would see matching expressions of delight at her expense on Sergio and Paula’s face. But this didn't bother her in the slightest. She smiled back at them, swiveling in her barstool to face the adorable bedhead and pajama-clad beauty that was her daughter, who, by the look on her face and the hands behind her back clearly holding something, had in fact remembered it was her mother’s birthday this morning. 

“Good morning, Mom,” Paula said, looking quite proud of herself. “Aaaaannnnnddddd HAPPY BIRTHDAY!” she added with dramatic flair, bringing out a large, wrapped, square-shaped object from behind her, waving it in the air. Raquel giggled at her daughter as she brought her cheeks in for kisses. “Thank you, mi vida! But we don’t need to make a big deal out of today. We’ve been celebrating all week.”

“Maybe so, but there is a big deal. Because your present is here,” she added. 

“Here?” Raquel asked, looking over to Sergio, who made a big show of looking away as if he had nothing to do with anything. He might have even been pretending to whistle, and she loved him all the more for allowing Paula to take the credit and the spotlight.

“Okay, so - “ Paula hopped back and forth on her feet, taking a deep breath and pushing her hair behind her ear and looking at Raquel eagerly to explain. “I know we are probably not going back to Spain, and not even the Philippines, and sometimes that makes me really sad, and I know sometimes you get sad, too. We had a lot of memories and friends and other family there. I miss our house sometimes. I miss -” Paula slowed down and gulped. 

“It’s okay, honey,” Raquel encouraged her, reaching a hand out. She knew there were many things Paula missed that she wouldn’t say. That was a conversation for another moment. 

“Yeah. I’m okay.” Raquel swallowed a proud smile at her brave daughter. “And, and Abuela is going to be okay - “ she looked over at her grandmother, who was leaning up against the counter drinking her coffee and listening with a sweet but somewhat absent smile on her face, but Maravi nodded when she realized she was being included. “And Papa - “ Paula turned to look at Sergio, behind her. He glanced at mother and daughter, smiling, but with slight trepidation. “Well, he’s just happy if you’re here.”

“And you, and Abuela, because I can't do without either of you. Package deal,” Raquel interjected softly. 

“As long as I have you three, absolutely more than okay,” he came to stand closer to Raquel, reaching a hand for hers.

Paula slowed her hopping and stood in front of Raquel, presenting the gift with both hands for her to take. “Well, we’re together. And we’re a family, and making new memories. So, for your birthday, I wanted you to have something to hold on to those memories, because the ones we have in Spain and the Philippines are just in our heads now, and that’s okay. So, I asked Papa and he helped me a little bit. Okay, open it.” Her explanation speech finished, she stood still, watching her mother anxiously, ready to gauge her reaction.

Raquel unwrapped the paper slowly, having an idea what the gift might be based on the shape and Paula’s rambling words, and finding her heart constricting in her chest. She didn’t want to cry, she was so happy, so very very happy. She felt Sergio lean closer into her side and then lean over towards Paula, and it looked like he handed her something. She saw her mother come a little closer to see what the fuss was all about and felt the warmth of their little bubble of love and life giving her the strength to take a deep breath and finally pull off the shiny paper to reveal a large photo album. Paula had decorated the cover with seashells they’d collected this week, Raquel realized, and had doodled “Family Album” in big bubble letters, each one even more intricately designed. 

“Oh, Paula!” Raquel exclaimed. She opened up a few pages, and while they were all blank, there were doodles of beach scenes and some stickers that Sergio must have brought back. Paula had either been up late last night or up early this morning decorating this for her, as it had to have been something purchased on the mainland. Their little island store would not have had anything like this in stock. Paula and Sergio must have planned this out for a while, for him to bring back the supplies as close as he could to her birthday, Raquel realized, because his leaving had been last minute.

“Smile!” Paula said, and as Raquel looked up in surprise, Paula whipped up a digital camera, something else she must have gotten from Sergio, and took a candid photo. Raquel was sure she looked terrible in it - emotional, surprised, her mother leaning over her and cooing at the seashells drying in the hot glue gun that must have been applied only this morning, and Sergio behind her, probably looking just as surprised even though he’d been in on the joke.

“Hahaha, Mama! It’s a perfect picture! Moment captured!” Paula cried, looking at the screen that showed the captured image. She flipped it around to show the adults. “Best present ever! Thanks, Papa,” she smiled up at Sergio and Raquel as they looked at the photo together and laughed at their expressions. “Do you like it? Papa got me this camera, AND a printer, so we can start collecting pictures of memories again! I set up a lot of the pages, with different colors and themes and everything, so all we need to do is start taking pictures again. We can just glue things in as we go.”

“This is perfect, Paula. What a thoughtful daughter I have. I couldn’t be happier.” Raquel pulled her in for a long hug until Paula squirmed away. But as her child stood back up, Raquel could tell she was feeling the moment as much as she was. Emotions were a female curse in their family. 

“Here,” Paula directed, clearing her throat, “Let’s take a family selfie! I think I have the timer all figured out.” She arranged her family members, protesting only a little bit, (“the toast!” Maravi cried, but was promptly shushed) moving them around a focal point as she set up the camera and timer. “C’mon, it’s Mama’s birthday! We have to!” she cajoled them into place and checked the settings. “Alright, 10 seconds!” she cried, running back over from behind the lens to stand next to her family. “Okay, see the red blinking! Like, five seconds left! Smile!” she cried out. 

Overcome with joy and love, Raquel impulsively threw both her arms around Paula, making everyone in the photo laugh, and the shutter clicked.


	16. she keeps me warm

“Okay, okay! Enough photos!” Raquel cried, as Paula leaned in close to snap another photo of her with Maraví. “I think you have plenty to work on printing and arranging now. I can’t wait to see how it looks, mi vida!” She kissed Paula again as the girl scanned through the ones she’d taken, happily chattering to Sergio about how she would filter and edit them. Raquel smiled over at her daughter and soon-to-be husband, looking at family photos together and discussing colors and editing. It was lovely to think about them conspiring to get this present for her, and how special it would be to look at a photo album of her family again - the new memories they were creating.

“Alright, here is your toast! It's pretty perfect, if I say so myself." Raquel took a big bite, starving after the morning's activities, and hummed in agreement. "Ah - I see you have an appetite this morning," her mother noticed. "Good for you. All birthdays should start with a little, shall we say, - "

"Mamá! Don't say anything at all!" Raquel managed, swallowing her toast quickly to stop her always on the verge of inappropriate mother.

"Fine, fine. So sensitive, even at your age. So, birthday girl,” her mother asked, smiling and brushing her hair from her face like she did when she was a little girl. She leaned in close to kiss her before speaking. “Is your sister coming over later? Who else is coming? What are we having for dinner?”

Raquel’s heart dropped, the food suddenly dry in her throat. She swallowed hard. “Oh, Mamá . . . Marta isn’t coming over.”

“Oh? Why not? Don’t tell me she forgot and went out of town or something. That sister of yours. Her head is always in the clouds.”

Raquel took her mother’s hands. “Mamá . . . do you miss Marta very much?”

Maraví looked down at their hands with a confused look on her face, and then back up at Raquel. “Of course, she’s my daughter. I miss you when either is out of sight. But you look serious. What’s this about?”

“Mamá . . . “ Raquel started slowly, and then glanced up to Paula and Sergio laughing at the screen on the camera, across the kitchen island from them and seemingly not paying any attention. “Mamá - do you remember where we live?”

Maraví scoffed, pulling her hands away. “Of course! Don’t be silly,” she added, grabbing some things on the counter to take to the sink. Raquel could sense her nervousness at being asked the question. 

“Mamá,” Raquel tried again, following her slowly but with enough space so she didn’t feel threatened. “What’s our address?” she asked softly. Maraví paused for a beat and then recited the house address they’d last lived at in Madrid. She brought the dishes to the sink and began washing them, regarding Raquel out the corner of her eyes. 

“We haven’t lived there in a few years. Can you try to remember again?” 

Maraví closed her eyes, concentrating. “Yes, that’s right. I’m so silly. We live in um, oh, just a moment, I wrote it down somewhere around here,” she dried her hands on a towel and went over to the cabinet where she kept many helpful post-its to remind her of important things. Raquel spared a glance at Sergio, who was looking at her with a worried expression, obviously reading the mood and possibly over-hearing part of the conversation. She tilted her head at him and he took the hint, leading Paula down to her room. 

“It’s here somewhere, I think,” Maraví was whispering to herself, guiding a finger down notes that mentioned Paula’s age and allergies, the name of the cat, the name of her nurse, what time to take her medications. There was many note, rewritten many times over, stating different things about Raquel but always ending with “she loves me very much.”

“Mamá - it’s not up there. We don’t - we don’t really have an address here,” Raquel laughed drily. 

Maraví turned to her, concerned. “Well, then, how will we get the mail?” she asked. 

Raquel paused, wondering how to handle this moment with her mother. Maraví had so many good days, and was easily able to charm her way through troubling moments that sometimes Raquel could forget there was a disease, an invisible monster, a villain she could not hunt down, that was slowly stealing her mother away from her.

The mention of her sister seemed fortuitous, with the news from Sergio and needing to make a decision about contacting her sister or not. Would Marta want to be in contact with them? Did she feel abandoned by Raquel? Did she miss her mother as much as Raquel would have if she’d left her in Madrid when she’d moved to the Philippines?

Many times over the course of their training and preparation for the second heist, Raquel had considered the options for contacting her sister, or to at least get some sort of confirmation that despite everything, she was happy. They had felt so physically close, so _close,_ and seeing Alberto in the tent and his barely suppressed rage towards her, his determination to find something to lead them to Paula - this had only heightened her anxiety for her sister but - it had been too risky, she knew that, they knew that. 

“We don’t get much mail these days, Mamá.” Raquel led her mother over to the sofas that faced the waves, hoping the peaceful landscape would somehow help guide her conversation in calmness.

“Vale. Well. I always did like getting mail. My magazines haven't come for weeks! I hardly know what's going on anymore. But that’s okay. I know you’ll take care of it.” Maraví patted her hand as they sat down and then smiled at Raquel.

 _“I know you’ll take care of it.”_ That made Raquel’s chin tremble a little bit and she had to look away to make sure she didn’t cry - her emotions were so close to the surface these days and she didn’t want to upset her mother.

 _“I know you’ll take care of it.”_ Her mother’s trust and implicit blessing over the hard decisions Raquel had made for them all settled over her like a warm blanket. She took a deep breath and leaned into her mother’s side, tucking their arms together and gazing out at the beach. 

“Mamá, we will probably never see Marta again. She is in Spain, and we are here, and we can’t leave. It’s too dangerous.”

“Dangerous? Are we in danger? Where is Paula?” Maraví sat up, worried.

“No, no, not at the moment. She’s with Sergio - remember Sergio?”

Maraví’s face relaxed immediately. “Yes, Sergio. He’ll know what to do. We can wait here.” 

It was evidently not a great day for Maraví, and Raquel sighed. It warmed her heart that her mother at least remembered Sergio clearly enough to not call him ‘Salva’ anymore, as she had the first few months in Palawan, and that she trusted him so deeply. But it still caught her off guard how quickly her mother’s brain and lucidity could switch. It wasn’t that she expected a break from her mother’s illness just because it was her birthday, but there were so many things weighing on her in light of the information Sergio had brought home.

“It’s nice to live on the beach, isn’t it, Mamá?” she asked, trying to change the subject.

“Oh, yes. It’s probably what I always wanted.” 

Raquel chuckled at the sweet absent-mindedness of the answer and threaded their fingers together. In that moment, she decided what to do with Sergio’s news about her sister and Alberto. She and Paula needed to have a talk about everything that had come to light, but then she knew what she had to do.

They sat there, tucked together on the couch, talking about mundane things as Maraví’s mind had inevitably drifted, until they heard Sergio and Paula’s voices coming down the hallway and back out to the open kitchen. 

“There they are!” Paula cried. “Mamá - we already printed a few photos and got the book started! It’s going to be _so_ amazing!” She deposited the photo album in Raquel’s lap and herself beside unceremoniously. 

“Cariño - I love this so much,” Raquel said, flipping through the first few pages that had hastily been thrown together. She again felt threatened with tears as she gazed upon the moments captured of their little unlikely family. Sergio and Paula had printed the nice, posed photos, but also a sample of the candid shots, which she felt looked more ‘them.’ “It’s perfect. I can’t wait to add more photos to it. This will keep us busy for a long time!” She snuggled Paula in for a hug.

Sergio cleared his throat, standing awkwardly in the middle of their outdoor living room. “Um. Well. I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but there is in fact one more thing here that is a present, um, for you, Raquel, and for all of us that might, keep us busy and make some memories. If you like.” 

Raquel glanced up, curious to see him acting so nervous in front of them all for the first time in a long time, and then tracked his flitting eyes and hands until she picked up on what had seemed out of place earlier in the morning. There was a large AV unit next to the TV, and she could see some fancy looking boxes as well. Sergio’s eyes caught hers, and he glanced to the ceiling. 

“Sergio! What is that?!” she asked in surprise, leaping up from the couch. He grinned in response and pulled a remote control out of his pants, clicking something until a screen descended from a track on the ceiling. It was then that Raquel noticed a projector mounted up on the opposite wall.

She looked back and forth from him to the screen in wonder. “Sergio - what is - is this - “

“Did you make our casita _the movies_?!” Paula squealed, catching on to the idea.

“Well,” he answered, ticking up his glasses. “Yes. Yes, I did.” 

Paula launched herself at his waist and threw her arms around him. “This is the COOLEST thing I have ever seen! Thank you so much!!”

“And here I thought it was _my_ birthday,” Raquel teased.

“Well, now you understand why I said some parts were for everyone,” Sergio offered, looking at her face as if he were still searching and waiting for a reaction. 

She softened towards him and reached for his hand, bringing up his palm to kiss it twice. “Sergio - this is incredible. Truly. Is this what you were up to in the early hours this morning?” 

It really was a thoughtful present. They often had rainy days on end and Paula had complained about the lack of cable or Netflix to entertain her when it was impossible to go outside. All their email and internet correspondence went through vast encryption processes, but they had somehow not gotten around to setting up any sort of entertainment for the TV that sat mostly unused in their outdoor living room. They occasionally watched local channels to know what was going on if there was a major storm, but both Sergio and Raquel were silently too worried about Paula ever seeing a news story about them or anyone from the heist to have allowed a cable or movie streaming system to be processed for the TV.

He smiled in relief at her gratitude, happy to know that his months of planning for this one present meant as much to her and Paula as he’d hoped. “Maybe. But you haven’t asked the most important question - what shall we watch?”

Raquel grinned up at him and then went to check out the contents of the boxes, where it seemed like hundreds of DVDs were filed alphabetically in a neat and orderly system. Paula called for Maraví to come and help her look through the second box and they both exclaimed over the contents. A quick perusal and Raquel saw _Amantes, Días Contados, Sex y Lucia,_ the entire Star Wars Trilogy, _Todo Sobre mi Madre, Hable con Ella,_ a collection of Hitchcock films and some classic scary movies, _Diarios de Motocicleta, El Laberinto del Fauno,_ all the Harry Potter films, and every Disney film she could think of. 

“‘Bonnie and Clyde?’ ‘The Sting?’ A bit on the nose, aren’t you,” she teased, remembering the first time he’d ever played the piano for her back in the hangar in Madrid. It felt like a lifetime ago. She stood up from her investigation and leaned into him and kissed his neck suddenly, grateful for all the ways their lives were different, but better now. 

“Ohhhh, Robert _Redford_!” Maraví cooed, picking up the title.

Paula eyed her curiously. “Who is that?”

“This handsome man,” Maraví pointed him out. “Paul Newman is easy on the eyes, as well, and now I hear he makes salad dressing. Curious. But Robert . . . well, your grandfather was more handsome, of course, but also, Robert _Redford_ ,” she sighed dramatically, making Paula giggle. “Sergio - did you grab any others starring mi novio, Roberto?”

Raquel and Sergio chuckled and kept looking through the collections as Paula started showing her abuela all the movies she wanted to start watching immediately. She noticed James Bond films, John Hughes hits from the eighties, some old musicals her mother would love, and glanced over at Sergio with a smile at the collection of Superman classics. 

“Superman, huh?” she grinned, standing to close her arms around him and looking up from where she’d planted her chin on his chest.

“Heard you had a thing for Clark Kent, so, I thought I would indulge the birthday girl,” he shrugged as he grinned right back.

“Oh, and I will be indulged, my sexy, thoughtful, soon-to-be-husband,” she murmured, her hands sliding up to cup his shoulder blades and bring him closer for a lingering kiss. Her hands wandered down to cup his ass briefly before he pulled away with a yelp, mindful of the other bodies in the room.

“There’s a few more I wanted you to see . . . “ he gestured over to a separate selection in another box, where DVDs of live concerts, including favorites like Van Morrison, Alejandro Sanz, Fleetwood Mac, Gloria Estefan and more were piled in with other names she recognized. “You keep saying I need some educating on all the movies, music, and such that I missed. And . . . I thought we could try and recreate some of that together. We might not ever be able to go to a concert, so . . . ”

“ . . . so you’ve brought the concert here. I love it, Sergio. Thank you, mi amor.” She smiled gratefully, so touched that he had thought of all this. He took off his glasses to clean unnecessarily, embarrassed. 

“Papa!” Paula squealed, looking closer at the new machine and picking up some equipment on top. “There’s microphones, _too_?!”

Raquel looked back at Sergio in surprise. “En serio? When you said that during the - “ she stopped herself just in time from mentioning ‘the heist,’ “- _before_ , you had mentioned you like karaoke, but to be honest I thought, well, after everything and knowing you more, I figured that was just to throw me off the scent, so to speak,” she concluded, tilting her head to the side and wondering up at him. 

“Well,” he replaced his glasses and scratched the back of his neck, a sure sign he was nervous. “I actually don’t _hate_ karaoke?!” he offered. 

“What?!” Raquel squealed in surprise and delight.

“I know, I know. I think what I appreciate about it is watching people pour their hearts out into a song that means something to them, and not caring if the rest of the bar agrees, not caring or noticing if they sound like a dying cat.” 

Raquel laughed at that. “Fair enough - I enjoy watching that, too. But will _you_ sing?”

“NO. NO way. Ahem - no.” He sliced his hand through the air to emphasize his point. “I enjoy it strictly as an audience member. However,” he turned to put an arm around her waist and draw her a little closer, “I have heard _you_ sing, mi amor. And I would love to hear more of that.” 

They stared at each other for a moment, smiling, and she fought off a blush and the desire to turn away from his adoring gaze. “Oh, Sergio - “ 

“I thought someone else might like it, too.” He dipped his head towards Paula who had already found the song catalogue for the karaoke and was pointing out songs she knew to her grandmother, who nodded as if she understood and agreed that Justin Bieber was essential listening.

Raquel leaned fully into him, allowing his hands to come around to her waist as hers slid up and down the valley of his spine. She felt him kiss the crown of her head softly and they both looked on as Paula and Maraví continued their discussion of the most anthemic songs in the selection.

“Good birthday so far?” he asked, whispering into her hair. He’d been so anxious for more than a week now, between leaving, getting the news about Alberto and Marta, working up to the proposal, and then revealing her birthday gifts. It was a huge relief to be home, in her arms, feeling the happy security of their family. Raquel had seemed truly surprised and delighted with everything, and even though he knew they still had to discuss the news about her sister and any steps she wanted to take to move forward and possibly make contact, possibly want to bring her here to their island . . . he pushed away those thoughts for the moment to simply let himself bask in Raquel’s happiness on her birthday and the small part he got to play it in.

“Mm-hmm, possibly the best,” she nodded against his chest, before bringing her hands up to grasp at the collar of his shirt and bring his focus to her face. “I love you. Thank you. For everything.”

His hands came up to frame her face and then card her hair with his fingers. He glanced over her features carefully, noting the smile lines, the freckles, the long lashes framing those brown eyes he could never get enough of. He zeroed in on her lips before kissing her softly. “I wish I could come up with something more original right now, but . . . “ he trailed off, looking around the room, Paula and Maraví now tucked up and giggling in the hammock, still picking out karaoke songs, the morning waves shushing slowly on the beach, their boat _Nairobi_ docked, the smell of a fresh pot of coffee brewing, the overwhelming blessed domesticity of it all and then back down to his soon to be wife. “But . . . I love _you_. Thank _you_. For everything.”


	17. trouble

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Paula learns the truth about her father, Sergio and Raquel have things to talk about.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow! I keep thinking I'm finished with this story, and then here comes the longest chapter yet! XD  
> Love Serquel SO much and am so grateful for anyone reading, and especially your comments and kudos.

The days and weeks went by, became months that became a year, and the family settled even more into their routines. Nicaragua felt more and more like home. Now that Paula was getting older, the local school wasn’t as challenging as both Raquel and Sergio wanted for her. In addition to the chess lessons they’d progressed to, Paula now joined as Sergio continued his “school” with the local children. He often reported with pride how adept she was at coding fun games for the smaller children, and had taken it upon herself to make an English study group that he oversaw on a weekly basis. They both loved how much she cared about the children on their small island and always looked out for anyone who seemed a bit down or left out. 

While Paula had been thrilled about the idea of a wedding, as the weeks went on and the excitement settled, Raquel noticed her daughter becoming more pensive and a bit withdrawn, and she knew it was time for a difficult conversation. Raquel knew Paula and Sergio had a wonderful relationship - Paula had started calling him ‘papá’ without any prompting - they loved each other dearly. But the news that her mother was marrying someone, even someone she loved and referred to as her father, was clearly stirring up some confusing feelings for Paula. Raquel knew she was remembering her father, Alberto.

She’d talked it over with Sergio, both of them unsure just how much Raquel should reveal to either Maraví or Paula about what they had learned about Alberto. Even though Raquel had suffered cruelly during their marriage and still had bouts of depression and PTSD as a result of the abuse, Alberto was still Paula’s father. It was difficult to know what to say.

Raquel never forgot that just when the first heist was starting, the grand event that would shape the rest of their lives, Paula had wanted to live with Alberto and Marta; she had not believed that her father had ever done anything wrong. “ _Papá si es bueno_ ,” she could still hear it in her head. She was so thankful that Alberto’s transgressions had never extended to Paula, but knew her daughter deserved some truth about the matter. 

Raquel never forgot that Paula had not been given a choice to stay in Spain or to come with her - she had made that decision as a mother for their mutual safety and also because while she wanted to be with Sergio with every part of her, she couldn’t for one moment imagine a life without her daughter. Sometimes she was still haunted by the words Paula had hurled at her in anger in the months after they’d arrived in Palawan, once she’d realized they weren’t on a long vacation in the Philippines, that they were never going back to Spain, that she couldn’t see her father again. Raquel recalled just how angry Paula had been at being taken away from her friends, her school, her father, her aunt, all she’d ever known. Those had been dark times, indeed. But eventually, things had settled, they had formed their family, they had created a home. Of course, this had been shattered in the months spent in turmoil for the second heist, and many things between Raquel and Sergio had evolved by the time they’d all been reunited in their second permanent home in Nicaragua. Raquel had always been impressed by how strong and adaptable Paula had seemed, but her psychologist’s training and mother’s instinct constantly reminded her that there could be many thoughts and feelings lurking beneath seemingly still waters. 

Raquel thought about what she wanted to say and she picked her moment - as Paula had grown, Raquel had leaned into the advice of her own mother to know how to have tough conversations. She recalled her younger years and was wise enough to know that news as big as this had to be delivered delicately. She waited a few weeks until everything abroad had settled, that the news of Alberto’s sentencing was sure. She’d pressed Sergio to find out exactly where her sister was, how her sister was. And then she asked Paula to take a beach walk.

It was something they did often together; a chance to connect without the others around, strolling along the shores at sunset, picking shells for Paula’s ever-growing collection, her digital camera in her pocket to snap photos to add to their family scrapbook, chatting about their days, pointing things out they saw in the tidepools, lapsing into comfortable silence. Raquel glanced sideways at her remarkable daughter - the long hair whipping about her face, her lanky limbs, her skin tanned from days in the sun, the sprinkling of freckles across her cheeks. A wide grin stretched over her face as she stooped down to pick up a particular shell that had caught her eye, and she deposited it in her pocket for safe-keeping.

“Sooooo, Mom, what’s up?” she asked suddenly, catching Raquel off-guard.

“Wh-what? Nothing. I just wanted a walk with you.” She stuttered, having not been ready to start this conversation, still building up to the delivery in her mind.

Paula looked at her and rolled her eyes good-naturedly. “Mom. I can tell you have something to say. What is it already?”

Raquel sighed. “Ah, okay. You got me,” Raquel held her hands up in mock surrender. “Why don’t we sit here for a minute?” she motioned towards the sand and Paula plunked down unceremoniously and then squared her shoulders as if bracing for impact. They sat still for a moment and Raquel tried to gather her thoughts. Paula, however, took a deep breath and dove right in.

“Okay. Tell me straight. How bad is it? Do we have to move again? Are we in danger?” she asked.

Raquel started, looking around. “What? No, it’s not like that - we’re fine, we’re safe, I promise.”

Paula let out a deep breath. “Good. Okay. That’s good.”

“Do you think Sergio would be letting us out of his sight if there was something like that going on, cariño? C’mon, you know him better than that.” She picked up Paula’s hand in her own. “I’m sorry you thought that - I didn’t realize you were picking up on whatever cues I was giving. I have some news to give you, and I’m not sure how to tell you, and I guess it’s making me nervous.”

“Just tell me the truth. Then you’ll feel better. At least, that’s what you always tell me to do.”

Raquel sighed again and looked into the setting sun, shuffling a little closer to her daughter. “You’re right, cariño. But you know that there are things Sergio - Papá and I - keep to ourselves, not because you can’t know _someday_ , but because it’s safer and easier for all of us? It’s not that we are keeping secrets from you, but we want you to - “

“ - I know, I know, ‘live my life without the burden of your actions and choices.’ I get it, Mamá. I know you will tell me what I need to know and you’re both keeping us all safe. But - what’s happened? What’s changed? If we’re not in danger and we’re not moving, what’s this about?” Paula looked up at her curiously.

Raquel took a deep breath. “Well, remember when- when Sergio left rather suddenly, around my birthday, several months ago?”

Paula nodded in the affirmative. “When he went to get the birthday presents and stuff?”

“Well, yes, that, but he also left because he had learned something about - well, about - you see, he had some news from Spain, and - “

“It was about my other papá, wasn’t it?” Paula asked in a small voice. “Is he - is he dead?” she said.

“No! No no no, cariño.” She hugged her arm around Paula and squeezed, pressing a kiss to her hair. “It’s not that terrible. But it isn’t good news, exactly, either. You see . . . the truth is - “ 

Raquel paused, her heart thudding in her chest, and her voice stuck in her throat. She personally felt vindicated that Alberto was behind bars, that his crimes had been exposed and were now known and believed by everyone, including their (former) colleagues, mutual friends, neighbors, everyone who had judged her, doubted her, teased her, told her it wasn’t that big a deal and she should stick it out. Everyone who had shamed her, mocked her, made her feel like the biggest bitch in all of Spain, and she surely deserved a little slap around, and the media that had splashed the details of her personal life across the headlines and sold the secrets of her soul for a story. There was a not so small part of her that was glad he was getting his due, that people would truly see him for what he was, that they would have to regret the words they’d said to her face and behind her back. 

But - 

This was still Paula’s father, without whom there would be no Paula. And so Raquel also had a part of her that had to be grateful to him and the daughter they had initially raised together with so much love. He had never hurt Paula - Raquel knew he had loved his daughter, and loved her still. And that Paula loved her father. Raquel and Alberto had their issues, had small ones and ones bigger than the two of them could have ever resolved on their own. The only truly innocent party in all of this was Paula, in fact, and while she deserved to know the truth and to be able to process what it all meant, she also deserved to keep an image in her mind of a father she loved and remember and preserve all the good times they had together. 

Raquel took another deep breath and promised herself that she would help Paula through this and help her to compartmentalize all the wonderful memories she had about her father and somehow reconcile them with the truth about his circumstances now. “Alberto is in jail, mi vida. He - he did some hurtful things to your aunt, and he hurt some other people, too. He also made some bad decisions at work, and so now he is in jail. I’m sorry, Paula. I know it’s hard to hear about this.” 

There. She’d said enough, not everything, but enough.

Paula had stilled in her half embrace, listening intently, not making eye contact. “Is Aunt Marta okay? Is she hurt?”

Raquel bit her lip.

“She’s - well. She’s safe, she has friends helping her now. Try not to worry about her.” Raquel felt at that moment she was saying those words to Paula as much as she was saying them to herself. She dug her free hand into the sand to ground herself to the earth, searching for the strength to say the right words. “She can take care of herself, I promise you. Do you - do you miss her?”

Paula shrugged. “Not anymore, not really. It’s just - she’s still my aunt, and I don’t want her to get hurt."

"Oh, sweetheart, I know. I don't want her to be sad either."

Paula shook her head. "Not just sad. I - I know he _hurt_ you, Mamá.”

Raquel turned sharply to view Paula’s profile, but it betrayed nothing except a small quivering of her chin. They’d never talked very openly or truthfully about the abuse, about the reasons Raquel had felt justified in taking Paula from Spain to the Philippines and away from Alberto.

“What do you mean, Paula?”

Paula looked down at her lap, her legs crossed. She picked up a bit of sand and poured it slowly, over and over in front of her, and Raquel recognized her stalling, gathering her thoughts, letting the repetitive motion soothe her. She waited.

“I know I didn’t really understand it all when we first moved, and I was angry. And I still really miss Papá a lot.”

Raquel squeezed her against her side. “I know, cariño. I’m sorry.”

“I miss him, but I also realize now that he was hurting you. I didn’t get it before as much. But I get it now.”

“Can you tell me about it?” Raquel asked, biting her lip and almost afraid for the answer.

Paula looked out at the ocean for a moment. The sun had nearly set completely, casting colors over the waves. “You weren’t happy for a long time, I think . . . and I can remember yelling and loud noises, things falling. Things broken in the morning. You and Papá didn’t sleep in the same room forever. It felt scary sometimes.” Her little body shuddered against Raquel’s and she pulled her instinctively closer, as if to shield her from bad memories.

“Oh, Paula - ” Raquel felt her heart breaking a little for her daughter who must have seen more than she had been able to process at the time.

“Mamá, it’s okay. It’s okay now. It took me a little while, but I realize now you’re so much happier with Sergio. I'm glad you're getting married. I didn't realize how awful it had been for you until now, seeing you with Sergio now. You're home, and you're more, I don't know. More alive. You smile and laugh. Sometimes you guys aren’t happy with each other, but it’s never fights like before. It’s not scary. I know he would never hurt you. He loves you so much, it’s kind of gross sometimes. But I’m mostly glad you’re happy. That’s important, even if you guys can be disgusting about it and always kissing and stuff.”

That made Raquel laugh in relief, and she didn’t know how much she had needed it until she felt the tears on her cheeks. Her arms came around her incredibly resilient and perceptive daughter, and she felt a huge release in her lungs. “I’m sorry you think we’re gross, Paula. But you’re right, I am happier than I've ever been. And he loves me and I love him, so very much. And we love _you_ , my angel,” she kissed the top of her head, rocking them back and forth. “We love you so much. And I’m sorry I had to tell you this news about your father.”

Paula took a deep breath and Raquel took it with her. “What _can_ you tell me?” she asked. Raquel considered it for a moment, and decided to go with most of the truth. 

“What Alberto has done means that he will spend quite a few years in prison. Your aunt is upset, of course, but she wasn’t . . . she will need to start her life over, but as far as we can tell, her friends are helping her and she will be alright, I know that. Sergio says that we can contact her somehow if we want. I’ve thought about it for a while, and I think it would be a good idea for me to send her a letter just to let her know that you and I are fine, that Abuela is doing well.” 

Here Raquel had to pause. If only someone could make these decisions for her, or at least let her know she’d made the right ones in how to go forward with everything happening with her sister and her ex-husband. Sergio listened, he assured her, he gave advice when she asked for it, but when it came down to it, Raquel knew it was her and her alone that was making these decisions that would forever shape the lives around her. She could only pray for the wisdom to make the right ones. For now, she would just focus on what was best and most straight-forward for Paula and her mother. “I miss her, too, but your aunt made her choices, and we have a new life now. Maybe in the future, in a long while, it would be safe and a good idea for us to meet somehow, but not now, I don’t think. Not just yet. Is that okay with you?”

“And my father?” Paula asked, her voice quivering.

“I know it’s terrible, and I wish it were different. But there can be no contact, not right now. I honestly don’t even know where he is. Since he was on the police force, they are trying to keep it all out of the public eye, so a lot of it is very secret. But hopefully this also means he’s in a nicer place, a nicer facility” Raquel answered, her voice just a whisper, hoarse and wishing she could take away any pain her daughter was feeling. She also didn't give a flying fuck what kind of place Alberto was in, but kept going for Paula's sake. “I’m so sorry, cariño. That part hasn’t changed - we can’t risk you communicating with him. And now he’s being monitored even more closely. Which would make it even more dangerous for you to try and contact him.” She pulled away and brought her hands up to Paula’s face, framing her eyes and cheeks and looking at her deeply. “I’m so sorry, Paula. And I understand if you’re upset, upset with me or Sergio or anyone else, you have every right to be. And I want you to know it’s okay to ask questions and feel anything you feel. I love you. With every part of me. I only want what’s best for you - it’s all I think about. So we’re going to be okay, okay?”

“But, Mamá, I’m upset with him, with Papá. Not with you. I love him, I will always love him and miss him. But I can see that he makes mistakes. And that’s his fault, not yours. So I’m upset with him, but not with you.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

Paula looked up at her with solemn eyes, bringing her hands up to hold Raquel’s, and then they leaned into each other, holding each other close. Many tears were shed, and Raquel let Paula whisper all the things she remembered about ‘before,’ when Alberto had been a constant threat in Raquel’s life. Paula had seen more than Raquel had known, and it was painful to think about all her daughter had witnessed. Raquel answered as many questions as she could, reassured Paula that even though he had been a terrible husband, he had been a loving father, and it was okay that Paula felt confused about that, and Raquel did not expect or want her to hate her father. 

Sergio watched them walk back slowly to the house, watched Paula shuffle to her room and shut the door. He watched Raquel watch her go, her shoulders slumped, the weight of the world bearing down on them. He switched the sauce to a simmer and came around the kitchen island, enveloping her in his arms. She let him hold her, leaning back into his embrace gratefully, her arms resting on top of his. “How did it go?” he asked hesitantly, trying to seem as if he hadn’t been watching the clock and the horizon and listening for their footsteps since the moment they’d left. 

Raquel smiled at his intuitive guess about the topic of their conversation. She hadn’t told him she was going to bring up Alberto today, but somehow, he had known. 

She thought for a moment about the conversation they’d had on the beach and how Paula had reacted to the news. “As well as can be expected, I think. It’s all a lot to take in, even for me, and he’s not my father. He’s not someone I ever want to see again, and I think today it might have really sunk in that she won’t be seeing him any time soon. And not because I’m a mean mother and I say so, but because he’s actually not a great guy.” She choked back a sob, feeling deeply for the pain her daughter was in, and turned into Sergio’s arms, grateful when they pulled her close. 

“Was I right to tell her?” she asked, her fingers playing with the buttons on his shirt as it soaked up the few tears that were slipping from her eyes.

Sergio hesitated. “I think so,” he spoke slowly. “I can’t claim to have your experience in parenting, or relationships in general, but I think being honest is best. Even when it hurts.”

They both stood quietly, swaying together for long moments, feeling the weight of his words wash over them. There had been many times in their relationship when being honest had created great strife and suffering, but in the end, their love for eachother had always been able to overcome the misunderstandings. And there were no secrets between them now, and their bond was stronger than ever.

“What do we do?” Sergio asked finally.

Raquel shrugged. “To be honest, I can remember being that age, and just needing time. When dinner is ready, I’ll knock on her door, and hopefully she will come out. If not, we’ll think of something. For now . . . I could really use a glass of - “

“Way ahead of you, my love,” Sergio said, breaking from their embrace to walk over and reach for two glasses of red wine he had poured once he’d spied them walking close to home.

Raquel smiled softly at him, eyes full of love for this man who had somehow learned to read every page in the book of her life and still wanted to turn to the next one and keep reading, to write new pages and chapters together, even when the ending was unclear.

She held up her glass to him in the air. “Cheers - to the joys of parenting.”

His face split into a grin. He always loved being reminded that he was a parent, that he was parenting with Raquel, that they were parenting Paula.

“Cheers.“ They sipped at their glasses, eyeing each other over the rims. 

“I do love you,” she said, reaching for his hand and pulling him in for a kiss. He came willingly and they stood, lips pressed to each other, wine glasses held to the side, breathing each other in, drawing strength from each other and so wrapped up in their moment that they didn’t hear a door open or small footsteps approaching, only a voice saying - 

“Mamaaaaaaa. Stop. This is exactly what I was talking about!”

They broke apart, both blushing, to find Paula balancing on one foot, arms crossed, a crooked smile painted on her face.

“What’s for dinner?” she asked, still smiling. “Smells good, Papá. I’m hungry.” 

******************************

One evening after dinner, Raquel gathered the family together on the sofas for something special; something she had been thinking about and planning for for a long time, and was finally ready to reveal. She waited until they were all seated on the couch, and then disappeared into the main house, coming back carrying a large object. Everyone eyed her curiously, but they noticed it was wrapped in decorative paper. Sergio and Paula both eyed her curiously, unsure who it was for. However, as Sergio and Paula’s birthdays fell quite close to each other, Raquel surprised them both by depositing the mysterious box she had kept in her mother’s room since Sergio’s last trip to the mainland right in the middle of them.

“This, my loves, is for you both. For all of us, maybe.” They startled for a moment.

“Ooookaaaaay,” Paula giggled, wondering what weird thing her mom was up to. Then Raquel watched with bated breath as the two of them sat side-by-side on the couch, questions in their eyes, slowly unwrapping the paper.

“Oh, just rip it already! I’m dying to know what it is!” encouraged Maraví.

Finally, the box opened to reveal sleek but substantial walkie talkies with short-range GPS systems in them, a book called “Guide to Geocaching,” another called “Jungle Survival 101,” and another about native edible plants in Central America. There were also blank scrolls, canteens, and a tin of face-paint in army colors.

Sergio and Paula looked at each other, then back to Raquel.

“Mom - what is all this?” Paula asked, wonder laced with a bit of confusion crossing her face. 

“Well, I wanted to get something that would challenge us as a family, help us get more comfortable in the jungle, and practice some survival skills that we will hopefully never need, but will be fun to know. Have either of you heard of geo-caching?”

They both shook their heads. 

“It’s incredible! One of the girls in Sergio’s class told me about it and helped me order some of these items. It’s like a grand treasure hunt where you leave written clues, coordinates, riddles, and trinkets all over a certain area. You can create maps with as much or as little information as you want, and then lead friends on an adventure!” her voice sped up as she watched them both grow more excited and impressed with what she’d put together for them. 

“You’ve started reading the Hunger Games recently, I thought you could be our own island Katniss,” she teased her daughter. 

“Whaaaaat????!!! This is SO COOL!” Paula squealed, running to throw her arms around Raquel, who received her laughing. “We can figure out how to get water and what we can and can’t eat. This will help us when we go camping, too!” 

Sergio turned over the books in his hands and started skimming through the one on geo-caching. “It might be prudent for me to set up some sort of command center where I could help give directions, check if Paula was on the right track - “

“Exactly, Professor,” Raquel indguled him with a smile, glad he was catching on. She could already see the gears turning in his head about the elaborate riddles and clues he could make to entertain them, and knew he was already considering what other things he could buy to make it even more fun but also practical for Paula. For all of them. “I thought you could set up some riddles and clues for us around the island and Paula and I can work to solve them, we can create some for the students in your class, and so on. The paper is for creating maps, tracking our progress, whatever. And the facepaint is just to make it more fun!”

Paula leapt over back to the box. “When do you think you can make the first one, papá?” she asked, looking up at Sergio and nudging him with her shoulder when he took a moment to respond, already absorbed in what he was reading. 

“Oh,” he flicked his glasses up on his face. “Um, well, can I have one week to put it together?”

“YES! Awesome. Mamá and I will be so ready, right?” she looked to Raquel for confirmation, who nodded. “Best gift ever!”

Raquel felt her heart grow bigger just looking at them. 

******************************

Their island family was growing closer and also bigger in different ways as time passed - along with the chickens they were raising, Sergio managed to have some goats delivered to share with the local families. Raquel and her mother took it upon themselves to distribute them to the neediest homes in the village, visiting and making connections and trying to find other ways to help. Maraví naturally made friends wherever she went - whether she remembered the details of the friendship from visit to visit was another story altogether, but everyone they met was extremely kind to her. With her psychologist background, Raquel was able to discern the right things to say and do to navigate the social circles and customs of the tight-knit community, and with the help of thoughtful gifts and patience and time, soon gained the trust of the islanders, which in turn paved the way to introduce Sergio after a few visits. 

Sergio wondered often if Raquel missed her life on the force - even though she had resigned and been the target of a lot of accusations and terrible press, and even though she had been treated terribly, he knew that it had been a driving part of her life and given her so much purpose. Whenever he tried to bring it up, she insisted that negotiating with an almost teenager and a forgetful mother kept her plenty busy, but he still felt sometimes that she had given up so much for him. He was happy to see her seem so fulfilled in this new mission to help the community. It had a bit of a double purpose - gaining the trust and support of the local people not only to make life more enjoyable, but so that their allegiance might be called on if ever needed - but this was something Raquel tried to not think too much about and rarely discussed with Sergio, trusting him to take care of them all in that aspect of their lives with his security team while she focused on their daily lives in the present moment.

But it was something Sergio thought about constantly - the need for an evacuation plan, and a backup plan for that, and the many different scenarios they would need to be prepared for. He and Raquel had given Paula a simplified version of why they needed to practice drills during the night, during the day, what she could and couldn’t say to friends or even adults she trusted like her school teachers. Even as they integrated more into the community, the need for secrecy was paramount, and they would take no unnecessary risks. The memories of what Rio had gone through, and what the group had had to do in order to get him back, haunted him. 

The thoughts of the second heist were even closer to the surface now, knowing that members of la banda were slowly, carefully making their staggered way from around the world to join them on the island for a few weeks to celebrate their wedding. Sergio and Raquel had debated for a week over the idea, but Sergio had ultimately left the decision up to Raquel, who had decided that if Sergio and his tech expert Pakistani team thought it was possible, then they should leave it up to the gang to decide if such a trek was worth it, since their lives were just as much on the line. There was an option for them to relocate somewhere different around the world after the reunion if they wanted to, for safety or a change of scenery, and Sergio had even quietly suggested that some could come live closer to them, even on the island with them, which Raquel wasn’t so sure about. As much as some of them had become like family to her during their time in Toledo for the second heist, she knew that they would never forget she had originally been on the side of the police, nor would they forget the shock of seeing her for the first time in Palawan when they had gathered to plan for Rio’s return. La banda had accepted her eventually, but her allegiance was first and foremost to Sergio, and theirs was to el Professor, and those were two separate yet intertwined beings. 

If she let herself think about it too long, and let herself be vulnerable to some of her darker thoughts, the knowledge that Tokyo and Nairobi had known that Sergio had agreed to be the father of Nairoibi’s baby without consulting her, and then hid that knowledge while they all partied and had a girls’ night that had, at the time, been exactly what she’d needed to feel truly accepted, still stung deeply. Raquel would be thrilled to see just about everyone there, but knew that if Tokyo came, at some point she was going to have to have a heart to heart with the girl and ask some questions to clear the air and get some sort of closure on the situation. 

She loved him for letting the choice be hers; he always valued the safety of Raquel, Paula and Maraví over his own when it all weighed in the balance, and wanted Raquel to have control of this decision. However, Raquel knew that even if he wouldn’t say so, it would mean a lot to Sergio to have them there for their wedding, as untraditional as it all might be, much more than it would mean to her. When she’d told him that he should contact the handlers and make arrangements for whoever wanted to come to the wedding to be able to come, the joyous look on his face could have split open the sky, and she knew she’d made the right decision.

“Alright, my love. We’ve been very lowkey about this whole thing, which I appreciate, but I think we need to do a little wedding talk. It’s two weeks away, and we have guests we can assume are making their way here. Sure you don’t want to change your mind, mm? Not getting cold feet, I hope?” she asked one afternoon, her fingers trailing over his chest, her legs slung over his in the hammock, pressed closely against each other, as usual. 

“No, of course not. _Your_ feet are _always_ cold though. Should I be worried?” he asked, reaching down to grab at her toes tucked under his calves. She squealed and buried them further under his legs and out of his reach. 

“No cold feet here, as long as you’re there to warm me up.” Raquel pressed a kiss against his neck and then another one when he hummed at the contact. “Do you know what else you need at a wedding? Do you have something to wear?”

“I will remind you that I have been to _five_ weddings,” he said drily, lacing his fingers with her hand draped across his chest. “I know the drill. We need terrible candy in glass bowls. We need a beef and a fish entree. We need an officiant. An open bar. A great playlist. I know which of those you will want to handle yourself.”

She grinned up at him. “Do you, now?” she teased, even as she clocked that he’d been to five weddings, and his brother had been married five times. _Oh, Sergio_ , she thought, her heart hurting just a little, as it usually did, thinking of what a narrow life experience he had had. Andres was not exactly an example of marital bliss. And it pained her that his brother, as much as she couldn’t stand him, would not be able to attend this special moment in Sergio’s life. 

He shook his head and sighed. “I could put together a playlist for you, but I’m hopeless at music that other people like, as you know, unless you think Helsinki and Palermo will enjoy dancing to Chopin. So you are in charge of music. Your mom will want to make the food, or at least come up with all the ideas a few times. So that means in order to help you organize things, I will handle the officiant and pay for the bar.”

“Oh, mi amor, you’re right and yet you’re wrong.”

“Hm? How’s that?”

Raquel pretended to think. “Well, it’s just, you’re actually paying for _all_ of it. And I get to say yes or no to the officiant. That’s quite personal and must involve the both of us. But go ahead and plan out the bar. Personalized drinks and everything. For all ten of us. Thank you for your help to the cause.”

“Well, I think I can handle that, even if alcohol isn’t exactly my forte. Maybe I’ll ask la banda to be in charge of that part.”

“You’re glad they’re coming, aren’t you?” she asked softly.

“Of course I am. I hope you are, too.” 

She nodded against his shoulder. “I’m happy they’re coming to be a part of our day. We need to talk about that, too - where they’re all going to sleep, if they sleep at all. And we should plan some activities - some boat rides, snorkeling and paddling and hikes and things.”

“Paula and I can arrange a treasure hunt with the geocaching for them, if you think that would be fun. They can compete in teams, like when we played futbol in Toledo. You know how they all are.”

“That was such a fun day! That is a brilliant idea, Sergio.” She reached up to kiss his nose. “It will be nice to include Paula in all of this, too. They’re her extended family, too. But now we get to be together without the stress of rescuing anyone or robbing anything.” She nestled back down onto his chest. “There’s the matter of food, though. Mamá will want to plan things but we need to check numbers and supply and make sure we have enough. And linens for everyone, maybe we should hire some extra help while people are here. We won’t be able to fit everyone on our boat for any excursions, so we need to hire another one. Have you confirmed everyone coming? You’re sure it’s all in motion? You’re sure it’s safe, right?” Her heart sped up against her will and she felt herself growing anxious, suddenly clutching at Sergio.

“Hey, hey - if this is all too much trouble, we can call it off. I want to marry you to spend the rest of my life with you. We don’t need a party and guests for weeks if it’s going to be stressful.” He pulled her close against him, wrapping his arms around her and kissing the crown of her head. “You say the word, Raquel.” 

She shook the bad thoughts away and sighed in relief at his support. “No, no it’s not too much, and I’m excited, too. There is just a lot to think about, and I’ll need your help.”

“You have it, of course.”

They lay together for a few moments, each thinking silently, with excitement and nerves and anticipation of the next few weeks at the house - guests coming, the inevitable revisiting of the past, the actual wedding, the risks involved in it all but the overwhelming desire to have la banda there.

Sergio broke the silence finally, stroking her hair, wondering just how concerned Raquel still was. “I mean it, mi amor - it’s paperwork and paying the right people, just for a title change, and all I need is to know you are with me. I would be happy to just sign some papers and call you mi mujer and that’s more than enough for me -”

“Oh - “ she interrupted.

“Pardon?”

“Say it again,” Raquel asked, pushing herself up to look down upon him.

“What?” Sergio asked, startled.

She looked deep into his eyes, his brow pressed in concern. She loved him so much sometimes it overwhelmed her. Their souls met, their minds met, their hearts met. But right now, she was having a full body flush in reaction to words she’d heard before, but with their impending nuptials approaching, suddenly meant so much more, were felt so much deeper. 

“Call me your mujer again,” she whispered, pressing her body more closely to his, moving slowly. She leaned down with a glint in her eye and kissed his jawline, his neck, then up to his ear. He stirred against her, their legs shifting.

“Ah,” he gasped, feeling his body react to her moving against him, her lips pressing against tender skin. “Um. Mi mujer,” he managed, his voice suddenly lower as he responded to her undulating. Their lips met then in a passionate kiss, mouths parting immediately and his hands came up into her hair, tongues dancing and lips meeting, teeth clashing as the heat rose between them and still he kept her close to him until they parted for air.

“Oh, that’s nice to hear, isn’t it, mi amor?” her voice dipped deeper as she rolled her body. One hand reached around to grab at her ass and bring her hips closer against his as she parted her legs, grinding her center against his growing hardness as she leaned over him. The hammock began rocking in their passion. 

“Sergio - “ she panted, the hammock rocking harder, his lips finding her throat and pressing hot open kisses against the soft flesh he found there. She felt her nipples harden at the sensation of his chest beneath hers, rocking harder still. “Sergio!” she cried, his hands wandering under the hem of her shirt, fingers grazing the valley of her spine, her hips bucking to make more contact with his, relishing his groan against her neck as he kept sucking at her tender skin. “Ah - fuck - Sergio - we need to move - we are going to flip this - “

That was all she managed to say before they flipped the hammock.

They landed in a mess on the floor, stunned into silence. A moment passed before either was able to register what had happened and then move accordingly. “Are you alright? Raquel?!” Sergio checked, reaching for her hands that were over her face.

“Ngggghhh,” she groaned, rolling to her side as he pulled her to him to check over her. “I can’t believe - “

“Oh. Ohhhh no. Gross, you guys!” Paula shrieked and then ran away, having walked into the living room unexpectedly and seen her parents tangled up in each other on the ground, flushed and lips swollen, Raquel's shirt hiked up around her bra and Sergio's hair looking like a bird had tried to build a nest in it. “Mom, I thought we talked about this!” she screamed as she closed herself into her bedroom again.

Raquel sighed into Sergio’s shoulder as he looked at her in mortification. “Sorry,” she managed. “Wow - I’m not sure what hurts worse - my back or my pride.”

Sergio chuckled in response. “It’s our fault for getting carried away out here.” His cheeks were bright red, but he kissed her and moved the hair out of her face as she pulled to bring her shirt back down.

“Good thing we have plenty of money for all the therapy she will be needing after catching her parents going at it all over the house, at all hours of the day,” Raquel quipped, moving to stand up.

Sergio stood up next to her slowly and shifted back and forth on his feet, caught on her words. He cleared his throat, watching Raquel as she brushed dust from herself from where they had landed on the floor. “Um, she _is_ okay with this, right?”

“Paula?” Raquel asked, surprised. “With what - us getting married? Of course. At least, I’m pretty sure she is. She loves you, Sergio.” 

“It’s just that - “ he stopped speaking and looked off into the distance, twitching his glasses and standing somewhat ill at ease. “Does it feel a bit more complicated, with the news about Alberto? I don’t want her to be . . . confused or uncertain, or that things are going to, I don’t know, change drastically.”

Raquel paused and looked up at him. “Cariño. What Paula and I said to each other that day I told her about Alberto is for us, and I’ll keep it private, but she does love you. She calls _you_ Papá because that’s what she feels for you.” She brought her hands up to frame his face, brushing at his growing curls. “I promise you that this is a good thing for all of us - for what it means legally, for what it means because we love each other and we are a family. I love you all the more for thinking of her feelings so deeply. Maybe you can talk to her about it, if you want? To set your mind at ease.”

Sergio sighed. “I just want her to know that . . . I’m marrying you because I want to be with you forever, but also that . . . “ he looked off in the distance. “That I know you are a package deal, you come together with Paula, Maraví, too. And I’m thrilled to make us all an official family. It means so much to me, Raquel. I am so lucky, three times over, to know and love the three of you.”

She felt the tears threatening in her eyes and so she leaned into him, wrapping her arms around his waist. “Tell her that, then, if you want to say anything.” She pulled back to look up at him, her arms still around him. His face started to look a little less worried, staring back at her intently, waiting for her next words. She looked back at him, tracing his jawline and neck with her eyes before she leaned in to kiss against his cheek, first one and then the other. 

“Don’t you know, my love? We’re lucky, too. _So_ lucky,” she stretched up to kiss him on the lips now. “So in love,” she kissed him again. “So yours. No cold feet. No doubt. No regrets. Not now, not ever, none of us. Vale?”

His eyes stayed closed for a moment when she pulled back to look at him, but when he opened them, the last vestiges of fear and doubt she had detected were gone.

“Vale, _mi mujer_.”

Their matching grins reignited the fire that had started on the hammock, and there were no spoken words for a long time after that. But this time, they were wise enough to first quickly run down the hallway on silent feet to their bedroom and throw the lock on the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> would really love to know what you think :) kudos and comments so appreciated.
> 
> the title is from "trouble" by ray lamontagne. here are the VERY appropriate lyrics. I recommend playing.
> 
> Trouble  
> Trouble, trouble, trouble, trouble  
> Trouble been doggin' my soul  
> Since the day I was born  
> Worry  
> Worry, worry, worry, worry  
> Worry just will not seem to leave  
> My mind alone  
> Well, I've been saved by a woman  
> I've been saved by a woman  
> I've been saved by a woman  
> She won't let me go  
> She won't let me go now  
> She won't let me go  
> She won't let me go now  
> Trouble  
> Oh, trouble, trouble, trouble, trouble  
> Feels like every time I get back on my feet  
> She come around and knock me down again  
> Worry  
> Oh, worry, worry, worry, worry  
> Sometimes I swear it feels like  
> This worry is my only friend  
> Well, I've been saved by a woman  
> I've been saved by a woman  
> I've been saved by a woman  
> She won't let me go  
> She won't let me go now  
> She won't let me go  
> She won't let me go now  
> Oh, ah, oh  
> She good to me now  
> She gave me love and affection  
> She good to me now  
> She gave me love and affection  
> I said I love her  
> Yes, I love her  
> I said I love her  
> I said I love  
> She good to me now  
> She good to me  
> She good to me


	18. she's got a way

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> conversations and moments between Raquel and Sergio as the wedding approaches and la banda makes their way from around the world to celebrate with them!

A feeling, many feelings, had been building up inside of him for weeks as they made plans, organized the house, oversaw the building of extra rooms, and waited excitedly for the members of la banda to show up for an extended stay with them for the wedding. They’d spent nearly every moment together in preparation - deciding what was and wasn’t important, going over all the security, and coming up with contingency plans for every scenario. Despite all the time together, or perhaps because of it and the pressure of what was coming, even though he wanted to be married to Raquel with all his heart, Sergio hadn’t been able to understand the emotional rollercoaster he was on, let alone articulate what he wanted to say. 

If Raquel could sense his turmoil, she didn’t force him into a conversation about it, but he guessed she was wrapped up in the plans and organization and excitement of the whole event. Despite their desires for something very small, it turned out there was a lot of work involved in hosting a dozen or so people at your house, especially if they were all of very different personalities, tastes, talents, and preferred sleeping arrangements. Oh, and internationally wanted criminals that required a high amount of security and subterfuge just to get to their tiny island. 

Many parts of the process overwhelmed Sergio, while Raquel seemed to thrive in having so many things to keep her busy. Event planning and hosting large groups of people had never been a part of her life, but he could tell she found it challenging and even fun to get rooms set up, figure out how they could feed everyone, work with Paula to get some activities together for the days to come, purchase toys for Denver and Stockholm’s latest addition to the family, who they knew was a girl, but weren’t sure of the name yet. It was one of the many things they were all looking forward to learning when la banda arrived.

The guesses had led to interesting conversations with Paula, as well, who had wanted to know why everyone had nicknames from cities, and then wanted one of her own. She had heard her mother call Sergio “Professor” before, but was shocked to find out her mother had a cool nickname.

Paula’s curiosity had been especially piqued at the idea that there was something about her mother she didn’t know. Raquel had rolled her eyes good-naturedly at Paula’s disbelief that her mother was a part of this gang of people she had heard referenced for years and vaguely remembered them visiting during their lives on Palawan, especially “the really cool but sad one - Tokyo. Can I hang out with her when she gets here, Mama? Maybe I should pick a city from Japan.” Raquel sighed at Paula’s growing older, turning more teenager but the moment, remembering well how hard it had been for her to believe her mother was a person and even possibly a cool one when she herself was growing up. Her heart hurt just a little that her baby girl was growing up so quickly before their eyes. Knowing she and Sergio had had a chance to have another baby, as unplanned as it had been, but that the sweet soul had been lost, another casualty of the heist, hurt her and tugged at her heart daily. She and Sergio had talked about it at length, but Raquel still felt she had a conversation with Tokyo to come about the ordeal. She prayed that if it came up, if the timing was right, she would have the right words to say and be strong enough to ask the questions she still wanted answers to.

Secretly, Raquel was looking forward to them all being around more people for a while. Their social circle was small by necessity, and Raquel thought it was important that Paula knew some more adults, and was also looking forward to her daughter knowing that her parents had friends, a past, some sort of street cred. And just interacting with adults in general was something she was looking forward to. Her life with her daughter, mother, and Sergio was full and complete in every way, but she was especially looking forward to visiting with Stolckholm, holding a toddler, giggling with Cinci, and having a few drinks with Helsinki, Marseille, and all the others who always made her laugh so much. Although she was going to warn Palermo that if he brought any of that “boom boom ciao” nonsense around their daughter into the coming weeks, there would be hell to pay.

As Paula marveled at the discovery of Raquel’s city code name, Sergio and Raquel realized at the same time, through their silent communication, that he only called her Lisboa in private, and under certain circumstances. Both had blushed quickly and then led Paula to a globe to spin and try to pick out a name. Together, they perched on bookshelves or leaned against Sergio’s desk in his study and watched Paula close her eyes, spin the globe, and stick out a finger, letting it land on cities and countries around the world to help choose a nickname for her to feel a part of the gang. She spun and landed in the ocean several times, then oddly enough, landed directly on Madrid before pulling her finger away, shaking her head and giving the globe one more determined spin. 

“Se-o-ul?” her voice asked, looking up from where she’d landed on the capital of South Korea. “Seoul? Did I say that right? Like the sun?”

“It’s pronounced like our word for the sun, yes, which would be a good name for you, my darling, because you brighten up our lives.” He kissed her forehead before settling into his chair to continue. Paula rolled her eyes a little, but Raquel could tell she was pleased. “Or we could say it is like the English word ‘soul,’ like our word la alma, which is fitting for you because you are the heart and soul of this family,” 

“Papaaaaa, stooop,” Paula groaned, embarrassed. Raquel just chuckled.

Sergio ignored her groans. “However, it’s still different, because it’s Korean,” Sergio explained. “I do think it’s a good name for you, though.”

“Why, Papa?” Paula asked, eyeing him curiously.

“Well, it’s a beautiful city - modern but with mountains to hike and go camping in, and all four seasons, which I know you love and I’m sorry I can’t bring here for you.”

Paula and Raquel both smiled at that. Paula had a growing affinity for weather, climate change, stars, and seasons, which her parents encouraged. Sergio even had plans to get her a telescope for her upcoming 13th birthday. Paula checked the weather in Madrid and in Palawan from the family computer and talked it over with her parents and abuela at breakfast every morning.

“And people in South Korea are known for loving things that are tiny and cute, like you do. And they love cartoons and pop music groups, to the point of obsession, much like you do. I’ve also read that they have amazing food markets, with all kinds of yummy things fried and served on sticks, and all the seafood you can imagine, and they also love their stationary shops with stickers and pens and note paper.”

Paula’s eyes grew wide at his description. “Oh . . . oh, I wanna go there . . .” she whispered, looking at her mother. “Mama, can we go?”

“But -” Sergio continued, lifting a finger. “There is one more thing about Seoul that I think absolutely solidifies your natural connection with the name and the people.” 

“What’s that?” Paula asked, tilting her head in curiosity.

Sergio cleared his throat, planting the drama in the moment and speaking slowly. “Koreans LOVE karaoke!”

Both Paula and Raquel burst into laughter. “Papa! I thought you were going to say something serious!”

“What? We all know how seriously you take karaoke.” 

The family grinned at each other. Since Sergio had brought home the home theatre karaoke set for Raquel’s birthday, many an evening had been spent with Paula, Raquel, and Maraví taking turns belting out tunes or singing duets together. It had been an amazing gift for the whole family. Maraví loved to sing a rotation of her favorites, and Paula had an uncanny knack for memorizing lyrics and hardly ever needed to look at the words on the screen to sing along. Karaoke nights were always a blast for the family and brought them all closer together. 

Sergio would watch from the sofa, a smile smiling playing on his lips, declining all manner of enticements Raquel offered to try and get him to sing for them. He could play piano, and could sort of carry a tune, but there was nothing in him that wanted to perform. He loved nothing more than to nurse a beer and watch his girls sing and dance to their favorite songs, sometimes adding hats or boas or sunglasses to dramatize their performances. When they’d worn themselves out and draped themselves into the hammock or across the sofa and easy chairs, he could usually be talked into playing a tune or two from the keyboard they’d set up in the casita space, his heart warming to hear them humming or softly singing along to whatever songs he chose.

It was no surprise nor was it a secret that Sergio’s favorite nights were when Paula would make her mama choose a song and Raquel would pretend she didn’t want to, try to push the mic away, but then would eventually give in. Paula would pick a few favorites and half-heartedly try to keep up with her mother, but then eventually would take to the hammock and just watch, proud of how well her mama could sing, but then eventually nodding off to sleep. And then Raquel would sing to him, warming up to it and losing herself in each song, hips swaying, eyes meeting, a flirty smile on her face. She had a beautiful voice - raspy, sexy, full of meaning, and when she had the right song and a mic in her hand, it was like a different part of her took over, and he could imagine her on stage in front of thousand of people, under a spotlight, each member of the audience feeling like they were being seduced by her voice rising and falling to the melodies.

“Alright. Seoul it is!” Paula announced, grinning at her new name and the many meanings behind it. “Ooooh I can’t wait to introduce myself to everyone!” she exclaimed. “This is gonna be fun.” She scampered off down the hallway and Raquel swung herself around and into Sergio’s lap. 

“You’re really good with her, you know,” she said, looking him directly in the eye.

Sergio stilled, the light mood suddenly changed and charged. “I hope so,” he murmured, making eye contact with Raquel but unable to hold it. 

“Sergio,” she insisted, her hand moving under his chin to direct his gaze back to her stare. “I mean it. You remind me all the time how lucky, how blessed I am that you will be my partner in raising her."

“I’m glad you feel that way,” he said.

“I do. And she does, too.”

He looked up sharply. “You’re sure?”

The uncertainty in his voice hurt her heart. Didn’t he know by now - all he meant to all of them?

She leaned in, kissed his nose, his forehead. She cradled his head in her hands, looked over every part of his face, felt his measured breaths grace her skin. “Sergio - how many times will I have to say it - we’re sure.”

He nestled into her warmth, her embrace. He inhaled deeply before speaking.

“To be honest, I would venture that my personality type, coupled with the general lack of experience I have with any kind of long-term relationship demands that I hear some sort of reassurance of commitment at least, oh, I don't know . . . what?” at this point he stopped, since Raquel had sighed and dropped her forehead to his shoulder, shaking her head in light laughter.

“Okay, Sergio. Every hour of every day, If that’s what it takes,” she promised, pressing her lips to his.

Of course, that evening, after looking up Youtubes of Korean music and history and having talked up what little he knew of Korea, the entire family had been sure they needed to barbecue over an open flame and then karaoke, to do what they could do on short notice to feel connected to Korean culture. 

“We’ll work on this,” Sergio had said, mostly to himself, nodding, thinking of what he could do to incorporate more international mindedness into Paula’s education. 

“What we just heard from K-pop sounds like a fun start. I think learning those dances will keep Paula and her friends busy for a few weeks. And we can learn how to make kimbap - that will be next week’s challenge. But if you manage to find some Soju, I’d be really impressed,” Raquel teased, stirring up some margaritas with lemon and limes from their own trees. 

After Sergio had set up the karaoke machine and projector, Maraví was the first to volunteer and sang some classics, swaying her hips and drawing the girls into dances, everyone singing along as best they could. When moments like this happened, it was like a light shone from Maraví, and the entire family contracted more closely towards her, honoring every whimsy, every moment, storing the good memories like these away as credit against what tough ones they knew might be coming.

After Maraví went off to bed with her nurse, Paula took a turn at the microphone for quite some time, and they listened to a lot of One Direction, Rosalia, and Ariana Grande. Then she forced her mother to sing a few duets with her before telling Raquel to sit down so she could spend time staring seriously at the words on the screen to memorize Taylor Swift’s latest contribution to pop music.

But eventually Paula grew tired and asked her mother to take over. Raquel acquiesced gracefully with a little coaxing, knowing her daughter wanted a way out, and also being happy to sing. She could admit she had a certain talent - she’d sung in a few bands in high school, university, and then at open mike nights before marrying Alberto. She might have even taken it a little bit further - she had been approached by some local musicians. Alberto had, of course, put a stop to it all, claiming that it wasn’t respectable, accusing her of doing it for the attention. 

The arguments had been worse than just that, worse than just his words and false accusations and jealousy. But Raquel only let her think of them for a moment before focussing on the love of her life, on Sergio, who looked at her with eyes of worship when she sang, who kissed up the veins of her neck, whispered hot desires in her ear, had to have his hands all over her afterwards, telling her how sexy she was and how much he loved it when she ‘performed,’ as he described it, even though it was just in their outdoor living room. 

Raquel sang low, bluesy songs, some traditional ballads, a few Basque songs that hit Sergio more closely to his heart than he wanted to admit and he had to subtly wipe a small tear away at one point. She ended with “Gypsy” by Fleetwood Mac. 

The notes died away and Raquel bowed dramatically yet self-consciously, sweeping her hair over her shoulder and coming to sit in Sergio’s lap, silencing his clapping hands and cuddling close, her nose tracing the planes of his face, tickling against his beard. “Well, mi amor, I think I have officially felt those margaritas and our daughter is asleep in the hammock and many songs have been sung.” She held his head close as she smacked her lips loudly against his cheek and giggled, and he knew then that she was a bit more drunk than she was letting on. “So, will you please indulge me, just this once, Professor, and sing something for me?”

Sergio looked down at where she’d snuggled into his chest. He knew that she fully expected him to brush her off and say no, as he had so many times before. Instead, he carefully disengaged her tequila-soaked limbs, stood up, and walked himself over to the keyboard. He turned it on carefully, fluttered his hands over the keys, looked back at her for a moment, clocking the look of adoration and surprise on her face, and then began to play.

“She’s got a way about her, mhmm

Don’t know what it is, but I know that I can’t live without her . . .”

She had heard him sing playfully, when it was just her, or in the shower, but had never really heard him sing with purpose. His piano was better, but his voice, even as it went flat or he stumbled over the words, filled her with warmth and love as he sang Billy Joel’s beautiful lyrics. 

“She's got a smile that heals me, mmh

I don't know why it is

But I have to laugh when she reveals me

She's got a way of talkin', mmh

I don't know what it is

But it lifts me up when we are walkin'

Anywhere . . .”

As he kept singing, Raquel sat and watched the play of his hands on the piano, the muscles moving in his shoulders, heard the timbre of his voice and felt it vibrating into the very core of her being. God, how she loved him. She remembered their first night together - it had also started with margaritas, with teasing, and then Sergio at gunpoint, the hangar, those first kisses and then giving in to the urge to make love with a stranger she had somehow felt so instantly connected to. Remembering the tension and electricity that had sparked between them that night still caused a swoop in her stomach when she thought about it, having no idea how both their lives would be so completely changed from that moment. 

“ She comes to me when I'm feelin' down

Inspires me without a sound

She touches me and I get turned around . . . ”

If she could have seen the future at that moment - would she have changed anything? 

If she had known the pain coming, the sense of betrayal by Sergio, the end of her career with the police force, the feelings of abandonment and deep disillusionment she felt in the year between helping Sergio and la banda escape and then the risk she took to find him in the Philippines - would she have stayed that night, let her heart crack wide open, call him the next day, introduce him as her partner to Alberto, fall even harder for him? 

Would she have stayed if she’d known what Paula would have had to go through in the last few years, would she have stayed on that path - given in to her base desires to be desired - to have someone undress her and kiss her and fuck her on that small couch in a dirty warehouse that looked like something she would have thought amazing in her twenties but in all honesty was uncomfortable and damp and it was only the surging chemistry between them and the inexplicable way this awkward, gentle man somehow made her feel so sexy and different that kept her there, far from the very unglamourous life she was living? 

Would she have stayed, asked him to play for her, fucked him again on the piano bench, groaning and sighing and clenching around him, sweating and slapping against him, calling him Salva, knowing that after a year apart, and then less than two years of relative calm, they’d be thrown back into the world of crime after having worked so hard to create a nest of safety, of security, built a fragile but strong family unit in Palawan? 

If she’d known that she would have to leave Spain, never to return as a free citizen, that she’d be parted from her sister for forever, that she would become her mother’s sole caretaker, that she would have to hide her identity in a million ways and live in constant fear of being discovered and taken away from all she held dear, that she’d have to contend with Sergio’s stubborn insistence that if they were discovered as a family, they were to turn him in, sell him out, and claim brain-washing and enslavement and get away with what they could so that Raquel and Paula would be let off as easily as possible - would she still take that step forward to kiss him first, to call him to pick her up, to sleep with him with her mother and daughter down the hall, to rescue him from the police station, to lie about his whereabouts as best she could to protect him, to join la banda to rescue Rio, to throw herself from that helicopter on the roof and join them in the Bank . . . 

It all seemed like a fever dream at the moment but even so, Raquel knew. 

Yes. 

She’d do it all again, live through all the pain and strife her mind’s eye had flashed through so quickly in its sense of deja vu, if it meant she could just now get up from the sofa, walk towards him on the bench, run her hands through that thick, unruly hair that always drove her wild, run them down his arms, down to his fingertips, stop his playing just as he was singing the last lines . . . 

“She's got a way about her, mmh

I don't know what it is

But I know that I can't live without her

Anyway . . . “

“I can’t live without _you_ , Sergio,” she whispered, her cheek pressing to his, curling her body over his on the piano bench. He entwined his fingers with hers and wrapped their arms around his body so that her face was drawn down to nestle into the crook where his shoulder met his neck.

He breathed into their contact for a moment, leaning into her strength. “This song is the closest bit of music I think I can get to telling you how much you mean to me,” he whispered. She kissed his cheek, her lips lingered, pressed into him, she smelled his skin and tasted the salty drop of a single tear that had escaped his control and slid down. “Because I cannot live without you, Raquel.”

She took a deep breath in, grateful in every part of her for him. “Well then,” she said, kissing his cheek again. “Since we both can’t live without each other, what do you say we get married?” she laughed through the happy tears that were starting to fall, and was gratified when he chuckled, too. 

Sergio spun around quickly on the bench and repositioned himself so she stood between his legs, her arms thrown over his shoulders as he looked up at her with pure love shining from his eyes. 

“If that’s a proposal, my answer is yes,” he said, leaning in to kiss her deeply. The mood changed quickly from sentimental to something much more heated, their bodies pressing against each other as he moved his hands up and down her sides. 

Raquel seated herself in his lap, kissing him again, pressing her breasts against his chest, feeling the heat where their centers met. “Vale,” she smiled. “I wouldn’t have accepted any other response. Now take me to bed, mi amor.”

With just a moment to think about it, he stood, shifting her in his arms to carry her to the back of the house where their room was, delighting in her shushed squeal of surprise and trying to not react as she giggled and moved and kissed him while he walked them down the hallway. He was still dealing with deep feelings and anxiety about everything that was happening in the coming weeks, but his constant was and always had been Raquel. He wanted to be buried deep inside her, lose himself in her, taste every part of her, melt together until nothing existed but the two of them. The questions and doubts and demons could wait until tomorrow. 

He left them outside their bedroom door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Really keen to know what you think :)  
> so happy for any kudos or comments.

**Author's Note:**

> Soundtrack for the chapters:  
> 1\. Astral Weeks - Van Morrison  
> 2\. Warm Love - Van Morrison  
> 3\. Moondance - Van Morrison  
> 4\. Secret Garden - Bruce Springsteen  
> 5\. Crazy Love - Van Morrison  
> 6\. Pienso en Ti - Shakira  
> 7\. Tupelo Honey - Van Morrison  
> 8\. Remedy - Adele  
> 9\. Blood Bank - Bon Iver  
> 10\. This Feeling - Alabama Shakes  
> 11\. Save Me - Amie Mann  
> 12\. Everlong - Foo Fighters  
> 13\. Stay Awake - London Grammar  
> 14\. Lay me Down - Sam Smith  
> 15\. In your eyes - Peter Gabriel  
> 16\. She Keeps Me Warm - Mary Lambert  
> 17\. Trouble - Ray Lamontagne  
> 


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